


Music & Passion

by HollyDB, Kimmie_Winchester



Series: The Disco Chronicles [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Saved By the Bell (TV), The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Ridiculous, Spike and Zack have a band, This Spike/Buffy are from Sang et Ivoire, Unexpected seriousness, You find out later they're from Harbingers of Beatrice, but not really, musical numbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 251,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyDB/pseuds/HollyDB, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmie_Winchester/pseuds/Kimmie_Winchester
Summary: Dumbledore invites Spike and Zack's band to Hogwarts to perform for Snape's birthday. Wackiness ensues.This was written between 2003-2004. It has not and will not be edited; all errors are reflective of the writing style both authors used at the time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See the introductory note [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19560574/chapters/46466893).

"Oh bugger," Spike and Zack said simultaneously as they listened to the voice on the other end of the speakerphone.

"Look guys. It’s not my fault that you planned a gig and I can’t get out to California. Did you forget that I work at the White House? When you're Deputy Chief of Staff, you can’t just call in and say ‘I think I’m going to take a few days off so I can tickle the ivories out in Cali.’ You’re just going to have to tell them no."

"Josh Lyman!" Zack growled. "We all have to make sacrifices for this to work. You wanted to join, but now you’re backing down. Well, I for one hand won’t let anything get in my way of getting to the top. As soon as this conversation is over, I’m going straight to practice and no stupid president is going to stand in my way."

"You tell him!" Spike urged.

"That’s right. Nothing. Not even a hell demon for all that matter. All I’m going to say is be here Friday or you’re out of a job." With that he hung up the phone before the other party could get in a word edgewise. "Now where was I?"

"Practicing. For Friday."

"That’s right," Zack started mumbling while in the process of getting out his guitar. "Nothing gonna stand in my way."

"Daddy," a little voice said coming over and pulling on his pant leg.

"Not even a damn Apocalypse is going to keep me from my prior obligations."

The little voice again tugged on Zack’s leg calling her father’s attentions. Her sincerity showed through with her little blonde pigtails bobbing up and down as she jumped up and down is attempts of being heard. "Daddy."

"Nothing!" Zack declared before looking down at the child and saying, "What is it Rosie, dear?"

"Mommy."

"Mommy isn’t here. And me and Uncle Spike have to practice now so if you’ll be a good little girl and sit over there, then Daddy will be really happy. OK?"

"No. Mommy here. Buffy home."

"Bloody hell," Spike said quickly grabbing things in hopeless attempts of cleaning up the mess that was left across the house.

"OK," Zack said putting away the instruments and picking up his daughter. "We’ll just tell them that we’ve been working on the whole book idea. Now, make sure you don’t say that Daddy and Spike have been practicing with their instruments, OK?"

The girl nodded in understanding as they headed up the stairs.

"Spike?" Buffy called from the front room.

"Yes, pet?" He retorted in an overly sincere tone.

"Didn’t I tell you that I wanted the house cleaned today since we’re having our dinner party tonight?"

"You’re having a party. I’m eating dinner."

"Spike!"

"Somebody’s in trouble," Zack sneered.

"Is that you, Zack?" Kelly called.

"Bugger," Zack grumbled as Spike beamed.

"Mommy," Rosie called scrambling out of her father’s arms to run into her mother’s embrace.

"Zack?" His wife asked. "Did you get that casserole in the oven for tonight?"

"Umm…well…"

"Zack! If you didn’t do that then what did you do all day? I don’t believe that that stupid psychic service you and Spike started is really that much work, no matter what the IRS says."

"Trouble," Rosie said looking on the verge of tears.

"What did your daddy and Spike do today, Rosie?" Buffy asked with the satisfaction of knowing that the three-year child would inherently tell the truth.

The girl seemed to ponder long and hard, which made both males in the room believe that she was about to name everything they did or did not do in chronological order, but she shrugged her little shoulders and said, "They worked real, real hard and did lots and lots of work on the phone."

"Did they play Dysfunctionals? With the guitars and drums?"

"Not at all, Mommy," The child beamingly lied. She then turned and smiled at both her father and Spike. Both returned her beam and nodded back at the child nonchalantly.

"Well, working or not, we have to get this house cleaned up," Buffy frowned. "Everybody is going to be here in only a few hours. Can you still make a casserole?" She asked Kelly.

"Don’t worry. I can whip something up. What all do you want? A couple casseroles, then I can get a chicken in the oven…or maybe some steaks. Zack can you start the grill?"

"No," Buffy interceded. "Kelly, I told you that I was going to be the main cook. You’re bringing a casserole, Lisa is bringing a salad, Giles the rolls, and Willow is going to cover dessert. Clarice said she would bring some wine. I’m making the main part of the meal though."

"Are you sure?" Kelly asked in panic. "I can do it. I cook all the time, you know. I’m no chef, but nobody ever complains and…"

"Kelly," Zack said pulling her arm. "Let’s go make a soufflé or a casserole or something. Spike needs to clean and Buffy needs to make dinner."

"No. Zangy is cleaning. I didn’t make it all."

"Just three fourths," Zack said going and picking up the trash off the coffee table from their lunch. He tossed it in the garbage and said with a snicker, "There. The rest is yours. It was your responsibility you know."

"Bad Daddy," Rosie scolded, shaking her finger at Zack.

"Umm…" Kelly began. "Is…well not that it matters, but I wondered if…well Lisa and Xander were… well bringing…or did they…"

"Is the poncy little prat coming?"

"Xander or the spawn of Xander?" Zack joked.

"I figure that Xander is coming," Buffy said glaring at Zack. Her expression changed to almost horror as she added. "I forgot to ask about Spawn. I mean Stephen."

"Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough," Zack said grabbing his wife and daughter. He pushed the out the door and added, "See ya tonight," Before winking at Spike and shutting the door.

*~*~*

"Are we there yet?!" an annoyingly immature, high-pitched voice demanded as Xander strapped his son into the back of the mini-van.

Lisa twisted sharply in her seat, attempting a patient smile even as it came out more as a grimace; words pushing through painfully clenched teeth. "Sweetie," she said with a plastic smile, "we just got into the car. Chances are, we aren’t there yet."

This seemed to satisfy the child until Xander assumed his seat at the wheel. Two seconds rolling out of the driveway, and the air was perturbed by an unsurprisingly shrill, "Are we there yet?!"

"No, Stephen."

A beat passed.

"Are we there yet?!"

"NO!" Xander yelled. Stephen automatically sniveled as his face crumpled and hot tears began scalding down his cheeks. What some would call an inhuman wail tore from his throat, and he began thrashing violently in the back.

"You don’t need to raise your voice," Lisa warned.

"He’s my son. I think I’ll do as I please."

"Your son? Do I need to remind you who had the baby?"

"About as often as I need to remind you who got off birth control without telling me."

"I forgot!"

Xander snorted, making a violent left turn. "Yeah. You forgot to stop taking that pill that you’d been on since high school. Just like you forgot to tell me that you were buying home pregnancy tests just so you could forget to tell me that you were pregnant until after everyone at work knew I was going to have a baby!"

Stephen’s cries from the back were becoming louder and much more pronounced. "Mommy and Daddy fight again!" he complained. "Daddy being insinseetave pwick again!"

Lisa gulped as Xander saw red.

"What exactly has your mother been telling you now?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"That’s really not necessary," Lisa said automatically.

"She said dat daddy is a wazy no-count wif no ambymitshums and dat hew’ll spend da west of his life doing nuffink but constwuction work and wishing he was mawwied to Annieyanka or Auntie Buffy."

Xander looked about ready to toss Lisa out of the car without bothering to pull over.

"Xand—"

"We’re going to be late," he said through gritted teeth, defiantly running a stoplight.

The van fell silent for a long, poignant moment.

"Are we there yet?"

"NO!" Stephen’s parents shouted together.

Meanwhile, things at the Bloody’s were not going any better. Buffy was beginning to seriously reconsider her insistence that she serve as the main cook, as performing in the kitchen was not something she did for fun, if ever. Nearly four years of marriage to Spike and he had practically forbidden her from lifting a finger around the house, even when she threatened to stake him when she grew bored with inactivity.

Now she stood in the kitchen numbly; a frying pan in one hand and two eggs in the other.

She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. And dinner guests would be arriving soon.

Bugger.

It wasn’t that she didn’t find Spike’s attempts to appease her endearing, but there were times—like now—that Buffy wished she had broadened her horizons and learned how to do everyday activities. Like cook.

There was bugger little that she could make with a frying pan and two eggs that would satisfy a growing guest list. Therefore, she decided to delay the inevitable and set everything aside, opting to instead set the table as she considered various take-out options that would be so kind as to deliver within the next half hour.

"Buffy!" Kelly greeted, maneuvering into the kitchen with the casserole. "Everything going all right?"

"Just fine!" The Slayer sighed heavily and decided to concede defeat. After everything was in its place, she approached the basement door, where there had suspiciously been no sounds of recovery.

Perhaps her ears were playing tricks on her, but that seemed rather doubtful. Slayer plus vampire powers equals no second-guessing. With a grumble, she pulled the door open and peered down the dark corridor.

"Spike?"

No answer.

If he’s drinking, I’m going to stake him.

"Spike?"

Again, no answer. Just a squeal. A loud, childish giggle and the demand for him to do it again!

Buffy traipsed further downstairs as her curiosity got the better of her. Spike was seated at the corner of the dryer with Rosie in his lap, playing peek-a-boo. Every time his hands covered his face, he would revert from vamp to human guise, eliciting excited giggles from the child. Nothing around him suggested that he had done any cleaning, but the Slayer couldn’t find it within herself to be angry. The scene he presented was too damn cute.

She crossed her arms and suppressed a chuckle. "Spike?"

"Yeah, love?"

"How’s it coming?"

"’S nice," he said absently, still slipping from game to regular face, much to Rosie’s delight.

"I can see that you’re getting a lot of work done."

"Yup. That’s me. One big cleaning machine."

Rosie unexpectedly twisted in his arms and spotted her on the staircase. "Hi, Auntie Buffy! Uncle Spike makes funny faces!"

Spike gulped at the mess, coming to his senses and realizing that she was actually there. He didn’t know whether to act more ashamed at his inactivity or to die of embarrassment from being caught. "Erm, yeah. Right you are." He cleared his throat and placed Rosie on the floor. "Why don’t you sod off so’s I can…ummm…" He looked around. If anything, the basement seemed to be in more shambles than it was when he was first assigned this task. "Finish what I started."

"Give it up," Buffy said, motioning for the stairs. "You’re needed in the kitchen."

He flashed her a grin as though to tell her that he had seen that one coming from a mile away.

"Shut up."

"Didn’t say anything."

"I can cook, you know."

"Right. You’re a natural at mac-an’-cheese."

She rolled her eyes, all warm fuzzies that had been brewing gone in place with that snarky smirk. "Just get your ass upstairs."

He tossed her a half-shocked look and moved to cover Rosie’s ears. "Language, Buffy," he berated, mock-serious.

"I’ve heard that word before!" Rosie insisted. "You and Daddy use it all the time!"

Buffy smirked. Spike paled. "Errr…"

"’Specially when you talk about Mum and Auntie Buffy!"

"Right," Spike said, avoiding his wife’s gaze. "The Nibblet oughta be here soon, ducks. You’ll wanna get ready to see her. Toddle on off."

"Is Stevie coming?" Rosie demanded, making a face of disgust.

"Yeah," Spike mimicked, looking as authentically panicked as the girl. "Is Stevie coming?"

"I called Nancy, his babysitter," Buffy admitted. "Mentioned his name and she started screaming. So I’m guessing he’s on his way, too." At that, her eyes widened. "Which means everyone is on their way and I have no entrée! Spike, there’s twenty minutes. Do you think—"

"That’s all I need," he assured her, smirk falling back into place.

There was no way any man could produce an acceptable dinner within given time constraints. Fortunately, Spike was not technically a man. With five minutes to spare, he had made enough food to satisfy a small country. And all looked delicious.

She hated it when he did that, despite however much she appreciated it.

"Wow!" Zack exclaimed as he held up the bags of blood that he had retrieved from the butcher shop. "Buff, it smells great!"

"Ummm…"

"Sure does." Spike smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and hooking his chin over her shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he was fishing for a compliment or trying to pass on the glory to her. "Where’s the Pom-Pom?"

"Outside. And stop calling her that." Zack scowled. "I should never have told you that she was a cheerleader in high school."

"Have to tease someone ‘bout it," Spike rationalized with a shrug. "The Slayer threatens to stake me whenever I bring up her cheerleading days."

"For good reason," Buffy snapped.

"Hey," Kelly greeted as she entered the house, nearly plowed by an over-excited toddler that had gone almost two hours without seeing her mother. "Oh, wow! It all looks delicious. Buffy, I don’t know how you did it!"

At that, the Slayer managed to look guilty. "Actually, I didn’t—"

"She was up working on it last night," Spike said with a shrug. "Wanted to make everything look easy. Bloody well told her it wouldn’t pass off. Isn’t that right, love?"

Buffy stared at him blankly. "Ummm. Right. Yeah."

Zack narrowed his eyes and pulled Spike off to the side. He didn’t have to say anything. Both men were well-educated in just how talented the Slayer was in the kitchen. However, before he could actually say anything, the front door burst open and streams of sunlight shot inward.

"Bugger!" Spike cried, fleeing for cover.

"Uncle Spike!" Stephen called, running after him.

"Oh dear," Kelly murmured, approaching to greet Xander and Lisa.

Stephen, meanwhile, had found it absolutely imperative to attach himself to Spike’s leg. "Uncle Spike! Uncle Spike!"

"Get it off me! Get it off me!"

"Damn, that kid has major grip," Zack said, observing from the far side of the room.

Spike’s eyes shot upward and threatened to go neon. "Don’t just stand there like a stupid git!" he snarled. "Get it off me!"

"Wheee!" Stephen called as the vampire tried to kick him across the room.

"Zangy! Now!"

"Right!" Zack finally snapped out of his daze and fled the room in search of a fire extinguisher.

"Stay Puft! Get your arse in here and get this ruddy kid off of me!"

"Don’t talk about him like that!" Lisa complained.

"Why not?" Buffy snapped. "You do."

"Stephen," Xander said patiently, glancing worriedly to Zack, who had located the fire extinguisher. "Let go of Uncle Spike."

"Listen to your Pap!"

"Hehehe. Uncle Spike funny!"

The door swung open as one by one, company started to arrive. Stephen released his death grip once he spotted Rosie and decided to alter his torment to her by chasing her around the room to give her cooties. It took about twenty minutes to catch them and even longer to get them to agree not to kill each other while the adults ate.

"This is why we’re never having children," Clarice told Angelus, who was nuzzling her throat.

"I hate to tell you, darling," he retorted, "but that’s not the only reason. After so many years, I don’t think you have to worry about that. Besides, we’re both sort of undead here."

"You’ve already had a brat," Spike observed.

"You’d think they’d learn how to socialize without screwing every five seconds," Kelly whispered to Zack.

"According to my therapist," Lisa said, "it’s common for survivors of a tragedy to link onto each other."

"What tragedy?"

She stared blankly at Kelly. "You’re kidding, right? With the entire Whose Line/Batman—"

Kelly burst out crying and Zack automatically rushed to comfort her. "Past rule!" he snapped. "We don’t talk about that, remember?"

"Well," Willow said once the crying jag started to fester. "Hopefully, this’ll make everyone happy. I’ve had a really great semester at Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione are progressing very well. Even little Draco—"

"You’ve seen Draco?" Dawn demanded eagerly.

"Well, yes, I see him everyday."

"Has he mentioned me?"

Willow exchanged a worried glance with Oz. "Yeah," the werewolf replied. "All the time."

"Mmm, this is excellent," Lisa complimented, taking a large bite of the entrée. "What’s it called?"

"’S chicken with olives and feta cheese," Spike said. "’S Greek."

"Compliments to the chef," Zack sneered. The vampire glared at him.

"Right." Spike smiled winningly at Buffy. "Compliments."

"Are you kidding me?" Dawn demanded. "There’s no WAY Buffy coo—"

"So, Willow," Buffy intervened sharply, sending her sister the death-glance. "Anything else of interest happen? It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen you."

"Yes, do tell," Giles encouraged. "I must admit that I find all this rather fascinating."

A hesitant moment passed as the Witch exchanged glances with Oz. "Well, there is something," Willow admitted. "Dumbledore has a favor to ask. Really, it’s…"

"What, Red?" Spike demanded, downing a quick gulp of blood.

"Yeah, spill," Zack encouraged.

"Umm, firstly, he wanted me to give you these." Willow handed Buffy and Spike each a small ring-sized package. "According to him, the stones are made from the same that the Gem of Amara was made out of. He thought you two might like to…you know…get a little sun."

"What about me?" Angelus snarled.

"Yeah," Clarice snapped defensively.

"No offense," Willow said quickly, "but he knows about you two. I mean, about everything that you’ve done, Angelus. He doesn’t want to have you out and about doing…evil things."

"The only evil thing they’ve done in four years is each other," Zack muttered to Spike, who snickered his appreciation.

"This is all well and good, Red," he said a minute later. "But I’m sensing that we’re getting all buttered up. Why’s that, exactly?"

Willow cleared her throat. "Ummm, well. Y-you see…in three days, Professor Snape turns fifty-eight."

"Only fifty-eight?" Dawn echoed in astonishment.

"H-he wants the Dysfunctionals to play at the birthday celebration." 

"He does?!?" Buffy and Kelly gasped.

"Why?" Xander asked with disbelief.

"’Cuz we’re good," Spike snapped. Spike then looked over at Zack as the other blond slowly turned his gaze to him. As Zack’s daze finally subsides, both men grinned unabashedly and began singing, "We’re going to Hogwarts. We’re going to Hogwarts."

"Oh God," Clarice groaned. "Just stake me now."

"Spike, Zack…please?" Giles began rubbing his temples in anticipation of the oncoming headache. "You’re going to excite the children," His glare went directly to the cackling little boy.

Now the two men decided to add a dance to their little song and stood up to demonstrate their improvisation for the room. The adults were extremely displeased with the turn of events while the children were delighted. "Daddy and Uncle Spike are funny," Rosie giggled as Zack ignored his wife’s protests and picked his daughter out of the chair and swung her around in some unknown version of the tango.

"We’re going to Hogwarts. Cha cha cha!" They continued.

"What about this Friday?" Angelus inquired with a smirk on his face. "Sounds like some second-rate band is a bit overbooked."

"Oh," The men said in realization that their happy bubble now was burst. The smiles left their faces and were immediately replaced with thoughtful looks of contemplation.

"I have a plan," Zack said confidently. This seemed to satisfy Spike and he presently decided to return to his mini celebration while the rest of the dinner party looked at Zack for elaboration. "Well…" he began. Truly he had not idea whatsoever, but quickly decided upon. "Bloody hell! Who gives a damn? Hogwarts here we come."

"So you guys will do it?" Willow asked in hopeful anticipation.

"Sure Red," Spike said absently in confirmation as he swung an elated and giggling Rosie around in his arms. The room fell silent as they watched the simple display a bit awestruck. Spike’s grin quickly was replaced with a scowl as he noticed the focus of the room’s attention and he placed the child on the ground and mumbled back to his seat about something of hoping to see her stumble around in a dizzy daze so he could watch her fall.

All the room that heard the comments laughed to themselves, including Kelly as she placed the content little girl back in her chair. One person didn’t hear the comment and came running straight over to Spike as he sat back in his chair.

"Uncle Spike! Pick me up! Spin me around!" Stephen said jumping up and down.

"No."

"Yes."

"I’ll pick you up," Zack said with a voice dripping with false sweetness. He quickly added under his breath. "And throw you out the goddamn window." The comment evoked smirks from both Kelly and Spike who were on either side of him, but his wife still felt it best to slap his arm for the words in question. The hit didn’t inflict physical pain, but Zack still looked at her with hurt. She rubbed his arm in response to show him no hard feelings.

"No," Stephen snapped to Zack’s request. "Uncle Spike is better than you. You’re dumb. And Rosie is a slut."

"What?!?" The whole table simultaneously gasped.

"The other day my mom said that Rosie is probably a slut like her momma."

"LISA!" The table growled.

"She also said that you weren't good enough for her," Stephen said looking at Zack. "Whatever that means, but something about betting she's laying vampires now."

"I think I'll take the kids out to play in the yard to play," Xander said attempting to get up from the table.

"You're not going anywhere," Lisa said yanking him down into his seat.

"No no no," Giles said tossing his napkin down on the table and standing up. "I believe that I can handle the job."

"I'll help!" Willow volunteered following Giles. "Come on Rosie and Stephen."

The little girl smiled and ran over to grab Giles' hand. The completely innocent and genuine look of pleasure on her face was enough to even make the Watcher grin. Stephen on the other hand refused to go until Oz decided to take leave and hauled the tike over his shoulder.

"Well looks like my plans were ruined again," Buffy threw her hands up in defeat.

"I'm sorry," Kelly apologized to Buffy before looking at Lisa. "How could you say that? We've been friends for years."

"You know..." Lisa stuttered trying desperately to come up with a valid excuse. "Sometimes you just say things.... and you don't know anybody's listening."

"I think she just wants to lay Zangy," Clarice uninvitingly added.

"Why don't you two go off and fuck somewhere?" Zack snapped. "I don't think there's been any copulation for about fifteen minutes now. I'm sure one of you is ready for some action."

"Testy now aren't we," Angelus said grabbing his lover and vacating to the living room.

"Anyways," Kelly glared back at Lisa.

"Well...I'm sorry," She burst into tears. 'Things have been so crazy lately. With work and Xander and Stephen. I just don't know how much more I can take." She sobbed a little more before adding. "And I haven't been shopping in weeks."

Kelly immediately went over to comfort her friend. "It’s ok, Lisa. I'm over it. No big."

"Speak for yourself!" Zack said with shock. "Hello. She beat on my bones too and I'm not as forgiving to women with hormone imbalances. I satisfy my wife just fine, thank you. And I swear another mention of that whole Slater incident and—"

"Zack," Kelly pleaded.

"Maybe we should just stop trying to make the whole dinner party thing work," Xander suggested.

"Maybe you should stop bringing that spawn of the devil to my house," Spike grumbled.

"Are you going to blame my son? After you were just dancing around the table. I'm sure that didn't bring down the quality of the meal."

"Don’t start Harris. I am blaming you and the spawn."

"Maybe we should just wrap this up," Buffy said. "Anybody want some desert?"

"Well, if we’re such a problem," Xander retorted to Spike with exasperation. "Then, maybe we’ll just go."

"Don’t forget the prat in the back." Spike said with indifference.

Zack snickered as Xander left the table in disgust. "Spike…" Buffy said with disbelief. She quickly followed Xander to try and stop the guy from taking her husband’s words to heart.

"This is great," Zack sarcastically drolled. His disposition quickly brightened to add, "But we get to go to Hogwarts."

"What ‘bout the rest of ‘em?"

"Oh, we’ll get Ferris and Josh. I say we get on the phone and book a little pit stop in our nation’s capitol before heading to the old country."

In the back yard, things were seemingly as chaotic as the dinner table. Stephen decided that pushing Rosie to the ground was a fun game, but calling her a slut while he did it was even more entertaining.

The Watcher and other impromptu babysitters were a bit too shocked about the events at the table to immediately notice.

"Poor Buffy," Willow said. "I know she tried hard, but these things never work out well."

"Well," Giles said removing his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt hem. "At least no one is having to be taken to the elegancy room, yet."

"Giles," Rosie cried as she ran to the man. The Watcher quickly placed his glasses back upon his face and picked up the desperate little child. "Rosie?"

Before he could get a response from the child as to the problem, he heard Stephen say, "Come back little slut. I wanna push you."

"Stephen," Xander said grabbing his son before the others could reprimand him. He smacked him in the mouth. "Don’t say that word. It’s bad. Even if Mommy says it." The boy began his deafening howl. Xander merely gave his friend’s an apologetic glance before turning around and heading toward the car.

The tearful little girl in Giles’s arms looked up at him with her big blue eyes. "Is dinner over?"

"Yes, I do believe it is." He replied wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"Is it bad?"

"To say the least."

The sudden but not wholly unexpected string of profanities that had the tendency to erupt from a certain Cockney vampire’s mouth disturbed the tender moment between Watcher and child. All heads outside looked up in time to see Spike launch Clarice over the threshold of his home and attempt without success to lift Angelus by the scruff of the neck so that he might follow. "For the last bloody time," he growled. "I want no sodding mating rituals on my living room carpet, understood? I don’t care what Zangy told you to do. Now I’m gonna have the Musk of Peaches stinking up my den."

"What’s the matter, William?" Angelus retorted, eyes sparkling. "Afraid of a little competition? Think the missus will take a whiff and realize she needs some real monster in her—"

Spike’s bumpies emerged without further provocation. "That’s enough," he snarled in warning.

"Ohhh. I’m shaking."

"Curse you sods. Why do we even invite you?"

"Because we give your parties that extra…" Angelus grasped Clarice around the waist and thrust his hips against her demonstratively. "Umph that otherwise lacks wherever you go."

Spike looked appalled. "Are you suggesting that my marriage is umphless?"

"Well, if the shoe fits…"

Zack sighed. There was only one way to settle this dispute. "Trust me," he said, coming between them before an actual fight broke out. "Kelly and I had to sublet a room here when we first moved to Sunnydale. If they had any more umph, they’d have to bottle and sell it to struggling newlyweds."

Angelus sneered. "That was years ago," he observed.

"Yeah, well we also had that backed-up sewer line last week," Kelly said. "No change."

"I swear, that was a bloody Zagros demon," Spike mused. "Zagros love ‘em sewer lines. Right disgusting, if you ask me."

"Thought we already did the exorcism," Zack pointed out.

"That took care of the Yanzan," Spike reminded him, absently bending over to collect Rosie in his arms as she soundlessly tugged at his trouser-legs. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, and he couldn’t help but grace her with an affectionate peck on the forehead. "Zagros are different. Can’t bloody well banish ‘em with a disenchantment spell. Or, you can, but the hocus pocus hast’a come from someone who knows what she’s doing."

Zack sighed. "Wonder if we can get Red to take care of it before Hogwarts."

"Hell-o!" Angelus said, waving the arm that wasn’t entwined around Clarice’s middle. "Still standing here!"

"Yeah. Noticed." Spike jutted his chin in a random direction. "Sod off. Me and Zangy have planning to do."

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "Take my cousin and your umph and go away."

"Uncle Spike…" Rosie said delicately. "Spawnie called me a slut."

"Spawnie?" He regarded Morris with an arched brow.

Zack shrugged with a laugh. "Told her to start calling the Spawn that."

Spike shook his head. "He called you a slut?" he repeated to the child. She nodded pitifully. "Well, don’t worry. Uncle Spike’ll make full well sure that the boy is bloody castrated before he reaches puberty. Then he won’t even get to know if that’s the sort of thing he’d enjo—"

"Spike!" Zack leapt forward and covered his daughter’s ears. "God, you’re going to get me in trouble again! Kelly’s still sore about the last time!"

Spike waggled his eyebrows. "’S that literally or metaphorically, mate?"

"I’m not kidding! She went right up to Kelly and asked her what …" He looked to the expectant child in his friend’s arms and protectively yanked her from grasp. "BJs are, and why Daddy complains that he doesn’t get any. God, I got an earful that night."

"Too bad it wasn’t a mouthful," Spike remarked.

"Bah!"

"Sorry."

"Uncle Spike," Rosie asked sweetly. "What’s a slut?"

Spike and Zack exchanged worried glances. Then Zack deposited his daughter back into the vampire’s arms and bolted for the door. "All yours, buddy!"

"Hey! She’s your kid!"

"And she asked you. Who would I be to deny her what she wants? I’m not a bad parent." He chuckled at the look on his friend’s face and disappeared inside.

Spike eyed the eager child in his arms and sighed. "Bloody hell."

It took about ten minutes to get Rosie to drop the subject, and by the time he reentered the house, all was nearly cleaned up. That didn’t stop him from immediately going to join Buffy in the kitchen, where they could conveniently hear the conversation coming from the Peaches-Musk-filled-living room.

Wordlessly, they began washing dishes together.

"Sorry," Spike mumbled.

Buffy reached for the dishrag and shrugged indifferently. He knew well that disposition. "What?"

"For being a complete and utter wanker?"

A sigh rumbled through the air. "I just wish you wouldn’t lash out at our friends like that."

"Harris isn’t my friend, love. He’s yours. What I was doing was standing up for my mates—the Morrises have been closer to us these past few years than any of your precious Scoobies." Spike snagged the dishrag back and tossed a cautious glance over his shoulder. "And if you’d pull that stake outta your you-know-where, you’d admit the same. Red’s off teaching at her dream school and Harris has had his arms full with that sodding brat of his and his wife who’s been shagging every willing body in this town—"

Buffy’s eyes went wide. "What? How do you know that?"

Spike snickered. "Hello. Demon here. I got my ear to the ground, kitten. You oughta try it sometime." At her narrowed gaze, he sighed and conceded. "’S just what I hear when I go to Willy’s for some snaps, all right? Zangy’d likely hear the same if he didn’t get so bottle-top wasted every time I drag him in there."

The Slayer made a face. "What do they sell at Willy’s that Zack would wanna drink?"

"You’d be surprised." Spike handed her the dishrag and set everything side, moving to wrap his arms around her middle. "So, we okay?"

Buffy arched a brow at him but grinned just the same, dropping the dishrag in the sink with all its conquests. She patted the arm across her stomach with familiar affection, but replied ponderously. "Hmmm, I don’t know. You were awfully rude."

"I’m a bad, rude man." He nuzzled her neck tenderly.

"The baddest."

"Mmmm…"

In two seconds flat, Spike had Buffy perched atop the isle in the middle of the kitchen and was engaged in some heavy kissage. Her legs somehow wound up around his middle to reel him in, and just as he was about to pop the first buttons off her blouse, a small, girlish voice reminded them that they weren’t alone in the house.

"Uncle Spike!" Rosie came running into the kitchen, Zack and Kelly following. Spike and Buffy immediately pulled apart, guilt and irritation at being interrupted flashing across their faces. The Slayer hopped down from the counter, hiding her flushed face as her vampiric companion not-so conspicuously wrapped his front with his duster.

"Whatcha doing?" Rosie asked, tugging on Spike’s coat.

"Uhhh…"

"They’re getting umphed," Zack said with a wicked grin, only to be elbowed sharply by Kelly two seconds later. "What?" She only glared at him.

Spike and Buffy shared a conspiratorial glance. He winked, she bristled, and life was good.

"Oz and Willow just left," Kelly said, trying to steer the topic from anything scandalous. "Wills said she’d call you tomorrow to get everything set up for the big birthday-bash celebration whatnot."

Zack and Spike flashed each other identical evil grins. "We’re going to Hogwarts…" they echoed, much to Rosie’s delight.

At that, Kelly snatched her daughter into her arms and marched purposefully to the door. "No more of that," she berated. "I know what happened tonight was awful…sorry, Buffy…and as much of it is Lisa’s fault for letting Spawn, I mean Stephen, listen in on her…calling us names…you two should’ve acted your age. Working up the kids like that. Really, I’m shocked and appalled."

"Act our age?" Zack echoed incredulously. "Spike’s like, a hundred and forty! What was he supposed to act like? DEAD?"

"That’d be a start," Giles murmured.

"And Zangy here," Spike added, intentionally ignoring the Watcher’s comment. "Compared to and ole fogie like me, he’s just a kid. So he should get to act like one."

"Is there anything you need us to do before we leave, Buffy?" Kelly asked, bouncing Rosie slightly in her arms.

"No, I’m all but done." She turned to her husband, whose—erm—condition hadn’t alleviated by the looks of it. His duster was still tightly wound around his front. The knowledge made her grin. "You and Zack gonna handle patrol tonight?"

"Yeah. We got ourselves a Zagros demon out there to kill."

"Call Dawn about tomorrow night, would you?" Zack asked as he mounted up the usual weaponry and headed for the front. "If Kelly and I are going to catch that flick, she’ll need to be at the house no later than two."

Spike eyed the door uneasily, glancing down to his leather-clad self, and to the door again. "Ummm…hold up, mate. It’ll be just a minute." He turned and bolted up the stairs, slamming the bathroom door behind him. An awkward silence spread across the foyer. Everyone stood dumbfound, nervously eying each other as though what he was doing wasn’t perfectly obvious.

When he emerged again, the duster lapels were on their respective sides, and he looked much relieved. "All right then." Everyone stared at him—Giles blatantly with disgust. "What? Let’s go out there and kick a little demon ass. Come on, vampires! Grrr, nasty! Let’s annihilate them for justice and for the safety of puppies, and Christmas, right? Let’s fight that evil!"

Zack looked about ready to burst a vein with laughter. He opened the door and motioned for his bleached friend to go ahead. "Right. Let’s go." Once they were outside and on their way to the Restfield Cemetery, he laughed and turned to Spike. "You have to be the least discreet person I know."

"First, I’m not a person. Second, and I quote, ‘duh.’" The vampire smiled good-naturedly. "’Sides, a good wank before patrol never hurt anyone."

"So where’s this Zagros?"

"You tell me. It’s been living in your house, right?"

"Well, Kel and I did the disenchantment spell—"

"I bloody told you. Disenchantment spell’s not gonna get rid of a Zagros. It’ll chase it off for a couple days, if you’re lucky, but it won’t get rid of it." Spike shifted easily into game face. "The Slayer said she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary last night. ‘Course, we don’t see many Zagros ‘round here. She might not know what to look for." He grinned shamelessly. "Cute as a button when she doesn’t know what’s what, she is. Thinks she’s all high-an’-mighty with the killing, but—"

"Any chance of us hitting Willy’s after we’re through here?"

"Really, Zangy. We’re supposed to be working, right? We both know that—"

"For information? Hello?"

"Willy hasn’t had any information in three weeks. We go in there, we’re getting sloshed." Spike reached for his cigarettes and lit up. "How you think we’re gonna drag Josh away from the nation’s cappy? He didn’t seem all negotiable on the phone."

"We’ll just explain that it’s a come or be kicked-out-of-the-band kinda thing."

"And find who to replace him on keyboards? You know bloody well that he’s the only bloke who can play halfway as decent as—"

There was a sudden crunch in the cemetery and both men drew to instinctual stillness. The patterns had been like this with more and more regularity over the passing years. Ever since the Morrises decided to relocate to Sunnydale, Spike and Zack made regular rounds of weekly patrolling, trading off days with Buffy. They had decided it was better that way because patrol with Spike and Buffy typically ended up with one of them pressed to a crypt wall before anything could be hunted down. Kelly, on very rare occasion, accompanied the Slayer on her rounds, though her desire to become a slayer herself had dwindled following the entire Batman movie incident. Rosie’s birth gave her new perspective in life, and she would be lying if she didn’t say that Zack’s insistence to patrol made her uneasy. Unfortunately, her husband was rather steadfast in his decision. He liked the action, liked the world of demon fighting, and—most especially—like the excuse to go to Willy’s every night after patrol ended for the celebratory drink. Always, of course, under the guise that he was there for information.

For a late-blooming Scooby, Zack’s fighting skills were surprisingly impressive. His reflexes were always on the up, and he never turned down a good brawl. It likely was a bad idea that he and Spike patrolled together since they enjoyed fighting more than trying to rally negotiations, but they enjoyed themselves far too much to forfeit the gig. And such had been the norm for years. Spike’s begrudging admittance that Zack ‘wasn’t that bad for a pulser’ just as Zack confessed that Spike ‘was all right for a dead guy’ served as enough macho covering for their womenfolk to know just how much the two appreciated each other. As a record, Spike had never had that many close male friends. His past—colorful with people to the likes of Peaches, Harris, and Ripper—left much to the imagination. It was good for him to have chums outside his family life. Gave him reason to get away from all the sodding estrogen at home. Same for Zack—Screech wasn’t exactly a prime example of someone he could match wits with, and Slater was not only long dead and digested, he had slept with his wife. A big no-no in the land of buddyhood.

Zack was too crazy about Kelly for Spike to worry about him moving in on his territory, and an observer would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to notice how thoroughly enwrapped the vampire was with the Slayer. Thus, all was good.

So when the blonde duo pivoted sharply to face whatever baddie was about to sneak up on them, they knew they were ready. It wasn’t a question of that.

Not until their attacker walked out of the shadows.

"Hello, Preppy."

Stop. Blink. Choke.

Huh?

Spike blinked and glanced to Zack. "You know this bloke?"

"Oh. My. God," was all Zack could say. _ **"Slater?!"**_


	2. Chapter 2

_ "The _ Slater?" Spike asked for clarification.

"You mean there’s more?" A.C. asked.

"You mean the yum-yum tasty bloke?"

"What is he talking about, Zack? And who is he?"

"What are you doing here?" Zack asked beside himself in shock. "You can’t. You’re…dead."

"What are you talking about Zack?" A.C. asked in seemingly genuine shock. "I don’t know what’s going on. The last thing I remember is well…We had all graduated and you were going to start looking for a job at your dad’s firm. I was… Helping I think."

"What? That was years ago. You don’t remember the whole Washington D.C. thing? Or the whole Kelly affair?" Zack now looked at Spike in confused desperation. "I don’t get this. Something evil is involved, but he seems…clueless. Is he even human, or did somebody mimic the Buffy-Bot idea?"

The vampire gave him a dirty look before giving it a test. As Spike’s fist connected with the curly haired man’s jaw, two yelps of pain were heard throughout the cemetery. "Human," he gasped as he cradled his throbbing head.

"What the hell?" Slater said kicking the pain stricken vampire. Zack knew that Spike couldn’t retaliate, so he took it upon himself to knock him to the ground. "Don’t hit him. He can’t bloody well retaliate." The grateful look on one man’s face coincided with the perplexed look on the others. Zack knew that something had to be done, so he immediately decided that an interrogation would be a start.

"What date do you think it is? How did you get here? Where have you been? Who have you talked to? How did you get—"

"Zangy," Spike kindly reminded. "Remember where we are? In SunnyD there are no straight answers."

Slater ignored the weird guy with his seemingly retro eighties fashion, and began answering the question bestowed upon him. The evidence Slater gave seemed to support a theory that he though that the time was years in the past before he committed any of the crimes against Zack’s friendship. He couldn’t answer how he got there, but that he woke up in an abandoned room downtown and was wondering around trying to gather his bearings. He had never heard of Sunnydale and definitely had no idea of what evil they were talking about.

"Don’t like it," Spike said as he pulled out a cigarette and lighted up. Zack agreed, nodding while unconsciously thinking about it reached over and plucked one out of his buddy’s pack. He had recently decided to give the nicotine delights a try, and realized why they were warned as addictive. He was yet to confess this development to his wife, but now that there was a carton of Marlboros in his glove compartment, he knew answers would have to be given eventually.

"When did you start smoking?" A.C. complained. Zack looked down sheepishly as the cigarette and shrugged. Slater decided that an answer for that question could wait as he turned to Spike. "Who the hell are you?" He demanded.

"Name’s Spike," he replied as he took another long drag.

"Why are we in this place called Sunnydale?"

"Well, why you’re here is one thing, but Zangy is a resident."

"You live here?"

"Enough with the introductions," Zack said as he started at his watch and noticed that they had been in the same exact spot for over an hour. All thoughts of demon chasing were temporary halted as he looked at Spike. "We have to call Giles."

"Who?" Slater’s question was ignored as Spike grabbed a hold of his wrist and started dragging him towards their houses.

"Let’s go by my place. I can call Ripper and have him meet us at your place. I think that would be safest. Do you agree?"

"You’re bird isn’t going to like the wake-up call," Spike pointed out.

"She’s going to find out sooner or later."

"You have a bird?" Slater asked in hopeless bewilderment.

Both men shook their heads and continued down to Zack’s house. They had been looking for a house for the Morrises that was a bit closer to the Summers/Bloody residence for some time but in recent years, to everyone’s disbelief, the real-estate market hadn’t been able to find one available. The Morrises currently resides about a fifteen-minute walk to Buffy’s, but exceedingly closer the cemetery they chose to go to tonight.

"Wow," A.C. said whistling as he looked up at the nice two-story. "Looks like you’ve been doing good lately, Preppy."

Zack ignored the comment as he looked to Spike. "Keep him quiet. Hopefully, Kelly won’t wake up and we can go without her being any the wiser." He briefly looked at Slater before adding. "I think that she might take it better in the morning." With that, they entered the house.

"Damn," Slater said, looking at the furnishings. "This is—"

"Shut the bloody hell up," Spike snapped in a fierce whisper.

"Who died and made you boss?" A.C. asked sarcastically.

"Well…" the platinum vampire began casting a look to his buddy who was smirking back at him as he picked up the phone.

"Giles," Zack whispered into the phone.

"Goodness gracious Zack," Giles groaned as he rolled over and looked at his clock. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yes, but we have a bit of a problem."

"Can it not wait until morning?"

"Normally, yes. But this problem is well…personal."

"If you need a place to stay, you can come over." Giles groaned as he set up in bed to turn on the light. "I knew she would find out about Willy’s. I’ll just unlock the door and—"

"No. Not that. I wish, but it’s worse. Do you remember any talk about my once friend Slater?"

"Oh," The Watcher said rubbing his temples and reaching for his glasses. "The one that you…well, consumed?"

"Yes. Well, he’s seemed to be regurgitated."

"Alive?"

"In human form."

"I’m heading to Buffy’s," Giles said crawling out of bed and reaching for his clothes.

"Thanks."

Both men said their appropriate farewells and the lines were disconnected. Zack couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at his once best friend and his new replacement. The two men were as different as day and night, but he couldn’t say that he would change things if he could. He regretted that people died that fateful night, but he wasn’t ready to admit that he wouldn’t save them now. He had made peace with the past and was willing to keep it that way. He had matured since then, and he knew that Spike, despite all his bad habits and dark sides, was a more loyal friend and Slater or any of his Bayside buddies could ever be.

"Glad someone’s finding this funny," Spike spat. "’S Ripper coming?"

"Yeah, he’s on his way," Zack said being jolted back to reality.

The few seconds that they exchanged in conversation was enough for Kelly to hear that Spike and Zack were in the house. She wondered if their early homecoming could possibly mean a remedy to their plumbing problem and decided she would slip on her robe and go downstairs for the news. When she descended the stairs, though, she wasn’t prepared for the shock on seeing Slater on her sofa being restrained by Spike. Her blood-curdling scream could probably be heard down the block.

Slater, for some reason unknown, thought that Kelly’s scream was a positive sign and broke away from Spike in his moment of confusion. "Hey, Kelly!" He said running toward her with open arms. Zack ran and grabbed a hold of the dark headed man. Kelly was first running toward her husband’s embrace, but quickly rerouted herself and ran to the protection of the platinum blonde. Once reaching her destination, she looked up at the vampire with horror and perplexity.

"Morning, love," Spike said in with a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The episode would be more humorous to him if he hadn’t seen the pain in her eyes. Kelly saw this and tried to smile or at least form a question, but opted instead in wrapping her arms around her friend and sobbing.

"What’s going on?" she gasped.

"We’re going to Giles now," Zack reassured.

"I’m sorry, Kel. Didn’t mean to scare ya."

She was able to make out the question, "Is he human?" before breaking out again into hysterics.

"He’d be dead by now if he wasn’," Spike pointed out. "Let’s get him out of here, Zangy. Look at her. She wasn’t even this bad when she found that Chorsta demon in the basement. Right ugly poofter too."

"Yeah, you’re right," Zack looked up at the stairs to see his little girl holding on to her favorite stuffed toy, looking down at him in search for answers. He caught Spike’s eye and the vampire released Kelly and pulled the new guy out the door.

"What now?" Slater snapped.

"Zangy’s going to try and calm down the home front. Don’t ave much insight into lady-folk to you? Her screaming wasn’t ‘Hug me, nancy-boy’. It was ‘Get out of here, bloody bastard.’"

"You’re from England, right?"

"Wow, intelligent. You learn that back at Bayside?" Spike snickered at himself before adding. "Can you point that out on a map, too?"

"Drop dead."

Spike was about to respond, but then the door opened and Zack stepped out on the porch. He tossed Spike the keys and headed down the steps.

"Little ancy ‘night, Zangy? Letting me drive the Mustang?"

"No," he answered distracted. "Still in the shop. Got the mini van."

"Bollocks," Spike protested as he got in the driver seat. "No wonder yeah gave me the keys. Next time let’s just skip the pit stop and walk."

The drive to Buffy’s was quick and without much conversation. Slater tried repeatedly to ask questions or make conversation, but the other two men were both too distracted with contemplating possibly theories on Slater’s sudden resurrection.

The doors flew open when they pulled in the drive and Buffy had barely enough time to give her husband a smirk at his current source of transportation before they were all three ushered into the house. Giles sat on the couch, accompanied by a barely wake Willow, Oz, and Dawn. All were looking up at the new arrival with the search for spontaneous answers.

"Want all of yeah to meet Slater," Spike introduced. He then looked at Slater. "This here’s the gang, ‘cept Harris, his bird and Anyanka."

They all meekly smiled at the dark headed man as he plopped down on the couch.

He smiled at Willow and said, "Hi, how you doing?"

"Umm, gay," she merely stated.

Slater got idea quick and turned his eye for other interests.

"Do you have any idea how this happened?" Zack looked to Giles. "Or why? Or—"

"Whether you will stop asking questions so he can answer?" Dawn finished.

"Or that," Zack said before sighing and sitting down next to his insulter.

She leaned over to him and whispered. "Does she know?"

"Kelly?" he whispered back. Her nod confirmed his question and he replied, "Yeah, and about my entire block. When I left she was still sobbing. Really scared her bad."

"Guess it would scare me too if my dinner from about three years ago just miraculously appeared in my living room," Dawn pointed out. Zack frowned at the comment, but his eyes smiled with much needed humor.

"We’ll have to do some researching, but obviously someone resurrected him," Giles pointed out. "Exactly who is probably the main question at this point."

"But he died of…kinda natural consequences," Zack pointed out. "Ya know, no portals or curses or that kind of stuff. Just a murder."

"I was murdered?" Slater gasped.

"Then besides that you were—" Dawn said before being abruptly stopped by an elbow provided by her big sister.

"Yes, that does seem to be a bit odd as well," Giles pointed out. "In the mean time," he glanced at Slater before turning his attention to the rest of the room. "We need to find a secure place to keep Mister…Slater."

"I can just stay over with Preppy," Slater grinned and slapped Zack on the back. "Can work out those issues with Kelly and clear everything up."

"No, he can’t," Zack said. "Kelly won’t let him back into the house until we find out what’s going on." He then added, "She doesn’t even know about afterwards."

"Well, then…" Giles said looking to Buffy.

"Nope. Sorry, but I promised Xander that if worse came to worse he could come here to sleep. So with the houseguests, my couch is on reservation," Buffy regretfully announced.

"So, what?" Giles asked knowing the only other option.

"Looks like Ripper it’s having a sleep over," Spike drawled.

"This isn’t fair," the Watcher replied with a voice dripping in resignation. He stood up and began to head for the door. "Well, come on then." He snapped looking at Slater who was still sitting on the sofa. "I want to get at least a bit of sleep."

After the two men left Zack sat on the sofa as the others began to head back to bed. Spike looked at his a minute before impatience got the better of his and he demanded, "What?"

"Well, I was just thinking…what are we going to do about Hogwarts?"

"I don’t care. He isn’t gonna to stop us. We’ll leave him in the bloody basement for all I care."

"I guess if we don’t have it all figured out before then, we’ll just have to bring him along," Zack’s face showed his displeasure at the thought.

"As long as you don’t make him part of the band or nothing," Spike pouted.

Zack saw the slight twinge of jealously that the vampire exerted and decided to play upon it. Without cracking a smile, he got up and headed toward the door. He grabbed the keys off the counter and said. "Well, he does play the drums. And he can really play a mean electric guitar." With that, he walked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Someone once said that raiding an Englishman’s refrigerator was a lot like dating a nun in that you never got the good stuff. Unfortunately, Slater was suffering the consequences of that assumption. While Giles was known by the Scoobies to keep bottles of Scotch and other assorted hard liquors handy for his timely alcoholic cravings, he wasn’t about to let some random used-to-be-digested houseguest snog his goods.

"But I’m recently alive!" Slater complained as Giles cast him a half-eaten box of Weetabix that he kept stored for Spike. "I need sustenance!"

"You’ll settle for what I give you," the Watcher warned grimly. "And please, do shut the hell up."

The quiet that followed did not have the capacity to last. Giles wasn’t a wild advocator of watching television; therefore the set he possessed was severely out of date and didn’t connect well with cable. When pressed, he calmly explained that he only used it to watch the news. Slater slumped into a pout and munched noisily on the Weetabix, eying the stranger as he moved from room to room without bothering to mask his discomfort. The old guy was boring. All he did was curse all British-like, retrieve, read, and put away books, and leave the room for an extended period of time to refill his glass of what appeared to be Brandy.

When the Watcher conceded that he wasn’t going to locate the mystery behind Slater’s reappearance that night, he sighed his defeat and moved to the sofa. "This is a bloody nightmare."

"What?"

"There is absolutely no connotations to a mysterious rising of someone who appears to have no purpose for being here in the first place," he explained, not reacting to the mildly indignant look that he earned. "Before we met Zack and his wife four years ago, I would have sworn off the possibility altogether. This all very vexing, and I’m too tired to engage in further research."

"Then why are you still awake?" Slater asked, hoping to snag some of the old man’s Brandy when he retired.

"Because it’s all very vexing," Giles retorted inanely, the strain on his voice not masking his agitation. "For all intents and purposes, you should be, well, dead."

"I kinda gathered that."

"And yet you’re not."

"I’m not."

"It’s not like I haven’t heard of people coming back from the dead. Around here, it happens all the time. First Angel, then Buffy…I believe I even heard a rumor that the law firm in Los Angeles was able to resurrect Angel’s sire. But this…you have no purpose for the Powers That Be at all!" More indignation that the Watcher chose to ignore. "I’ve lived on a Hellmouth for ten years and this has to be the strangest thing I have ever heard of." He paused timely. "Well, unless you count that mess with the Beast and the Whose Line plot…which concurred the eve of your murder…" His eyes brightened with discovery and he was off the couch again, diving for his personal library with newfound enthusiasm.

Slater blinked. "Huh?"

"Perhaps what happened that night has something to do with this…"

"What?"

"Lord knows enough happened. We might have unintentionally set in motion events that could merit some danger…" He paused thoughtfully. "Especially with Willow’s inviting everyone to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? What?"

Giles glanced upward as though just realizing Slater was still present. "Tell me," he said, returning to the living room, a thick text tucked under his arm. "What is the last thing you remember before your death?"

"I’ve already told Zack—"

"Nothing about going to Washington?"

"The state or the capital?"

A sigh coursed through his body. "I’ll take that as a no," he murmured. "Do you remember Zack mentioning anything about his cousin?"

Slater appeared to contemplate this for a minute. "Clarice?"

"Right." Giles nodded proudly as though encouraging a three-year old. "Clarice Starling. The one who interviewed Hannibal Lecter to solve the Buffalo Bill case."

He snorted. "I do remember reading somewhere that she gave him a blow-job for the information he gave her."

A look of grave disapproval washed over the Watcher’s features. Read somewhere? Likely The National Tattler—that dreadful magazine that Lecter had once accused him of reading before that unfortunate hubbub with the Disneyland misadventures. "You do not recall meeting her, then?" he asked softly, making an assertive attempt to maintain his temper. "Or anything that followed?"

"I met her?"

Apparently not.

"What about Kelly?"

Slater shrugged indifferently, preoccupied with the Weetabix. "Ah, she’ll come around," he said. "She was probably just too happy to see that I wasn’t dead. Kelly used to cry about everything—even the little things. Seeing that I was alive probably triggered some emotional collapse."

"You have no idea," Giles murmured. "But that wasn’t what I referring to. You don’t recall…erm…well, according to Kelly, you two engaged in…erm…relations at some point prior to your…death. Given the fact that she was several months pregnant on the night of your death and she swears vehemently that Rosie is Zack’s child, I must conclude that the…ehm…act took place several—"

There was a long blink. Then all hell broke loose.

"Kelly and I had sex?!"

"Well—"

"Me. As in Albert Clifford Slater. She slept with me?"

"As I have heard it. Remember, I did not make hers or Zack’s acquaintance until after your death. But I have grown to know Kelly, and I believe with all my heart that she laments—"

At that, Slater stopped. "What?"

"Her story remains that you bullied her into it."

"I forced her to have sex with me?" He turned unnaturally pale, even for a recently reanimated corpse, and collapsed with defeat against the couch. Flashes of Kelly screaming and running from him clouded his vision, and he closed his eyes tightly. "Oh God. Tell me I…did I…I didn’t r-r-ra—"

"No, no. Good Lord, no."

"Oh thank God." The momentary relief abated the next instant. "But I bullied her into it? The kid’s not mine, is it?"

There was no room to reply—the front door opened and slammed shut with the climactic arrival of a certain bleach-haired vampire. He stood in the foyer for a long minute, glaring at the man who was presumptuously eating his Weetabix. "The kid is not an ‘it’, mate," he snarled. "She has a name."

Slater looked up and frowned when he saw whom it was. "Yeah. I just don’t know it."

"And you don’t deserve to." The vampire marched angrily to the pair, snatching the Weetabix away with such violent authority that it prompted the other man to his feet in firm defense.

"Hey!" he complained. "I wasn’t finished with that!"

"Yes, you were." As if to accentuate the point, Spike took a hearty bite and his eyes flashed yellow. He used Slater’s surprise to bypass him and move to the kitchen, where he poured himself a mug full of blood.

"Spike," Giles grumbled, "as lovely as it is to see you—well, it’s never that—at…good god, three o’clock in the morning, your presence does beg the question…why are you here?"

"Apparently to stop you from giving away my bloody Weetabix." He eyed the Watcher distastefully. "And to give our new friend a candid warning. You mind?"

"Good Lord, it’s three o’clock! You two can resolve your pissing contest in the morning!"

"It is morning, and this has nothing to do with a pissing contest." Spike eyed Slater dangerously. "Listen up, mate. I’m only gonna say this once."

"Thank God," Giles sighed.

The vampire’s jaw set tightly, but he didn’t respond to the interruption. He was too occupied with the former jock, who was regarding him with mocking attention. "I can’t speak for Zangy," he growled lowly. "You two have a history and all that poofish rot. But I do know something or two ‘bout his bird. Come near Kelly or the Bit, and you’re gonna lose something. You get me?"

Slater’s brows perked and he rose to his feet. There was no need to accentuate his obviously superior build; were he a vampire, he would have no trouble overpowering Spike in the brawn department. Spike’s strength was wirier in nature—he had the moves, but he had never been known for his physical capacity. Unfortunately, Slater remained blissfully ignorant of his disadvantage, therefore regarded him with intent that was entirely too self-confident for his own good. "Oh yeah?" he retorted smugly. "Or you’ll what?"

Spike grinned. He’d been hoping for a break. Regrettably, Giles saw where this was headed and found it imperative to intervene at that moment, regardless of agreement. "Spike," he said shortly, "this is hardly the time or place—"

"Oh, bugger off, Ripper. You weren’t there. You didn’t see how skittish this wanker made her."

"Well I did just come back from the dead, brainiac."

"That’s not why she was skittish, you git. She’s lived on the sodding Hellmouth for four years. Little used to that by now. ‘Sides, she’s one of the Slayer’s best chums. Associating with the dead’s not what’s got her yen all tied up." He stopped abruptly when he saw Giles begin to advance once more and an inhuman growl tore through the room. Without prompt, Spike allowed his bumpies to emerge and silenced the old man devoid of further hindrance. "Ripper, I told you to stay outta this."

Slater blinked and stared. Then the shock waned, and he screamed.

"Ohh, pipe down," the vampire snapped. "I’m not gonna bite you." Giles coughed something that sounded remarkably like "can’t!" and consequentially went ignored. "This it’s just a friendly warning, all right, mate? Like I said, if Zangy wants to renew whatever you two wankers had, that’s his business. But if you come near the bird and make her life any more miserable than you already have, you’ll have to answer to me. And I won’t be nice about it. Do you get me?"

Spike stared hard at him through neon cast eyes until Slater emerged from his petrified shock and nodded rapidly. With seeming satisfaction, the platinum vampire grinned, tilted his head to signify their bargain—(he wasn’t about to shake the wanker’s hand)—and moved for the door. There he paused thoughtfully and glanced upward as though forgetting something.

"Oh, and one more thing." A hasty retreat back to the kitchen. He was back to the door before Slater had time to comprehend what was being done. The vamp face was still in affect—he wanted to make sure he was taken seriously. "Stay the bloody hell away from my Weetabix."

Then he was gone—short and climactic, much like his entrance. Gone because now the damage was done. Slater cast a long eye to Giles, pleading silently for him to explain so everything, anything, made sense.

"Right," the Watcher sighed, eying the door contemptuously as though he could see Spike retreating on the other side. "And now, thanks to that blubbering buffoon, I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. There is a bit more to explain…about Sunnydale." 

*~*~*

"You’re serious aren’t you?" Kelly said, eyes wide with thorough shock.

"As a bleeding heart attack," Spike retorted with a nod.

"But…why?"

"’Cause that’s what I do, kitten. I look out for my women."

"But I’m—"

"You’re as good as my sis-’n-law. You know that. ‘Sides, it’s only fair to try and give Rosie as good a chance as any to grow up normally." He sighed and glanced to the child. "Even if it is in a town as buggered as this with demons running a muck and a godfather who’ll never age. No need to add some ugly ponce from your past who’s supposed to be dead, right? I look out for my women. You hear me?"

They were seated with Rosie at a quaint outdoor café; the vampire was enjoying his newfound liberty in being able to venture into sunlight. This, of course, resulted in a large pair of sunglasses to protect sensitized eyes from any additional brightness. He had agreed to take Kelly and Rosie out for the day to keep them away from Slater—was practically volunteered for the position when Buffy received a heated phone call from Giles at five o’clock in the morning that forbade him from nearing the newly undead wanker until things were a little less insane. As it was, the Scoobies had called an emergency pre-Hogwarts meeting and everyone was currently engaged in a heavy research/debate session at the Magic Box.

She was still staring at him in awed wonder, and it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. "’S not like it’s forever," he amended under his nonexistent breath. "Just until you’re comfy with the notion that your ex-honey is back. I made him promise that he won’t bother you…if he knows wha’s good for him, that is."

"He’s not my ex-honey," Kelly denied vehemently. "He’s…he was an old friend-turned-big-mistake. Huge, colossal, apocalyptic mistake."

"Oi!" Spike protested good-naturedly. "Y’don’t kid ‘bout things of the apocalyptic nature ‘round here. Haven’t you learned anything?"

"Yes. And I wasn’t kidding." Kelly sighed sadly and ran a hand through her daughter’s hair. The girl was too preoccupied with her burger and fries to be paying the adults any attention. She was calm now after a rather explosive morning: Rosie was a very perceptive child, and when she noticed that Spike was walking around unguarded in the sunlight, she had burst into tears about how he was leaving her. It had taken a good fifteen minutes for her to calm down and notice that he was still there. The child’s attentiveness touched him beyond reproach, though it was something of a private matter between them. It made him wish he had been there to watch Dawn grow up. "I wouldn’t have said anything apocalyptic unless I was telling you the truth. I know it’s behind me. I mean, years have passed, right? Long years and we’ve been…we’ve been happy here. Happier than I thought possible. When Zack and I first married…it was so hasty. I knew we were meant to be together but we were so young. I was terrified it wouldn’t last. I guess that was one of the things that…" She broke off emotionally. "I know he says he did, but on some level, I’m not sure he’s ever forgiven me. He acted so irrationally when he found out."

Spike’s brows perched. "He stood aside and let a loony not only kill, but cook and eat him. And he helped with that part, too! That’s a little more for the irrational, pet. Hell, I’m a bloody vampire, and I know that."

Kelly laughed humorlessly and blessed him with a fond look. "Can you honestly say that you would have done any differently?"

"if Buffy and I had always had the relationship we have now? Probably not." He gestured broadly to himself. "Evil."

"You’re not evil, Uncle Spike!" Rosie giggled, glancing up from her plate and flashing him a ketchup-covered smile.

The vampire mock-scowled at her. "You take that back, Missy!"

"Make me!"

The scowl quickly turned into a wicked grin, and Rosie squealed with delight. "This means war!"

What ensued was nothing if not ordinary: the girl writhing and giggling under her favorite non-parent’s tickling fingers as she fervently refused to alleviate her verdict. Kelly was laughing so hard by the time he gave up—covered in ketchup for his efforts—that it almost made ruining black shirt #15 worth it.

"You’re so good with children," she said, wiping mirth-inspired tears from her eyes. "It’s a shame you and Buffy can’t…"

Spike shrugged indifferently and began reaching for his cigarettes before casting a glance to the still-giggling girl and thinking the better of it. "’S not that bad," he retorted. "With our luck, we’d probably bugger up any kid worse than the Spawn. Two vamp parents? And not to mention, having to watch ‘em grow older an’…" He trailed off emotionally, eyes fixed on Rosie. "’S gonna be hard enough watching the lot of you grow older. Wha’s a world without Nibblet or Red? Or you and Zangy? Hell, even Ripper when he’s not being a git. There’s a reason vamps aren’t supposed to get attached to you bloody humans…for more reasons than you being our food supply."

Kelly took a sip of her coffee and tilted her head. "But you have Buffy."

He couldn’t help it; an idiotically blissful grin spread across his face, and he ducked his head before the aspects of life that reminded everyone that he was supposed to be dead sparkled into his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, barely concealing his awe. Awe that would never go away, despite how long he had to grow accustomed to the notion. "I have Buffy. For ever and ever."

"You really love her, don’t you?"

Spike grinned, eyes shining for everything he could not say. There were certain things reserved for the Slayer’s ears alone. "Do Fyarl demons shoot burning mucus?" he asked rhetorically.

A musical chuckle rang through the air. "All right, all right, point taken."

"Well, ask a stupid question, pet…"

"A Feeworal demon? Uncle Spike, Uncle Spike!" Rosie called, raising her arms for him to pick her up. What had begun as an ordinary ketchup mess had rapidly turned into a ketchup catastrophe, but he didn’t bat an eye. As long as she kept her red-stained hands away from his duster, which was back at the house. Now that he could emerge during the day, he had to dress with more conservation than before. People might not bat an eye at a nightwalker wearing a leather coat in ninety-degree weather, but daylight was a whole new ballpark, as Buffy had reminded him repeatedly before leaving the house that morning. "Daddy and I saw a Feeworal demon the other day!"

He arched a brow at that. "You did, did you?"

"Yeah! It made funny noises!"

"Your Pap let you get close enough to hear the noises it makes?"

At that, the girl froze. "No…"

"Don’t lie to ole Spike. Bit, did you go out by yourself to the park again?"

There was a pause, then a shameful nod. Kelly’s eyes bulged in horror but he motioned for her to calm down. This was something she needed to hear from an authority figure, and bless her heart, children had a nasty habit of not abiding their mothers.

"Rosie, I’ve talked to you ‘bout talking to strange demons, haven’t I?"

The girl’s bright blue gaze widened comically as though she had actually forgotten, and she cast her eyes into her lap with newfound shame. "Yes, Uncle Spike."

"Not all of ‘em are like me and Aunt Buffy, remember?"

"Yes, Uncle Spike."

"Y’know what they see you as, right?"

"A nummy treat, Uncle Spike."

"The nummiest." He graced her forehead with a kiss. "Demons love their food sugar-coated, sweets. They’d have a bloody field day with you—in a vulgar, literal sense. Y’know it’d break my heart if anything happened to you."

Rosie placed her hand over the vampire’s chest and waited. "But your heart doesn’t beat!"

"Doesn’t mean it can’t break. Now, are you gonna go to the park without me or your Pap again?"

"No, Uncle Spike."

"And why’s that?"

"’Cause it’d break your heart."

Kelly watched the pair in awe. Watched as he brushed another kiss over her forehead and appraised her insight. Though he had made a habit of gracing everyone with his more tender side since the child’s birth, it was still somewhat odd to watch such blatant displays of affection. However, the vampire would not allow her to dwell. When he was satisfied that Rosie wouldn’t wander off without supervision, he turned back to the girl’s mother and nodded with casual decline. "You all packed for the group heading out?"

"Yeah. Oh, Anya called. She wanted to talk to Zack about your line-up." Kelly took a long sip of coffee. "Among other things, it appears Snape would like to see you two do a minstrel show. You know…stuff from his generation."

"A minstrel show? Does the wanker even know the kind’ve music we play?"

"Come on! They’re paying you a lot of money, here."

"I have my integrity, you know. My pride."

"Which you’d sell for a flat fee in a metaphoric heartbeat."

"Oi there!" he protested, even if he couldn’t contain his grin. "Well, only if Zangy agrees."

A kindly old woman who approached to admire Rosie, a broad smile on her face, interrupted their conversation. Even covered with ketchup, the girl could attract a following. "Well, hello there!" she said beamingly. "Aren’t you a pretty picture?"

"Y’should see her covered in soy sauce," Spike observed, favoring the child with a smile. "Gives whole new meaning to ‘tasty morsel.’"

"I bet you’ve said the same thing about Buffy," Kelly teased.

"Kel! I’m shocked and appalled." His smirk, if anything, verified her accusation.

"Yeah, I’ll bet you are. I’m just glad you two have managed to keep it as quiet as possible…" He arched a brow. "Erm, at least quieter than, oh say, Angelus and Clarice."

"Point taken, kitten."

The old woman, who had not followed a word of their conversation, turned to them with a broad smile. "She looks just like you," she informed Spike, whose eyes widened automatically.

"The chit’s not mine!" he said. "I’m her uncle…" A frown as he trailed off. "In a manner of speaking."

The woman’s smile melted into a steady frown as she turned once more to observe the girl, who grinned winningly at her. It only took seconds. With conviction, she had pivoted on her righteous heels and spat, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," before marching off.

Spike stared at the woman blankly. "Well, that was…weird."

Kelly, apparently, was not having as difficult a time connecting the dots. Her face crumpled within seconds, and the tears she had been trying to school since the night before finally gave leave and began rolling down her cheeks. "Don’t you get it?" she asked. "She thought that I…that you…and I’m married…and she… well, why not?" A note of bitter resolve overtook her tone, and she wiped her tears away angrily. "I’ve boned my husband’s best friend once. Why shouldn’t I be the target of—"

"Hush, pet. She couldn’t know ‘bout all that." Spike was studying Rosie carefully. "’Sides, even if you were the type to shag your husband’s best chaps outta spite, I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to get near me. Not that I’m not flattered or…the girl in no way looks like me! She’s got Zangy all over her! What the bleeding hell was that old bitch smoking?"

"Uncle Spike said a bad word!" Rosie berated, waggling her finger disapprovingly.

"Sorry, poodle," he apologized, lifting her in his arms as he dug through his rarely-used wallet for money. Amongst other things, daylight meant having to actually pay for various items, which was why he blessed Xander’s biweekly paycheck—especially since he benefited from it almost more than the boy did.

So he wasn’t openly stealing things anymore. That didn’t mean he would pass up a ten-dollar bill just lying around with no one to claim. And honestly, if Harris hadn’t learned by now to be careful with his money whilst around vampires, he didn’t deserve it.

"You shouldn’t use bad language."

"The nasty lady upset your mum, sweetling. I couldn’t help myself." He glanced up to Kelly, who was making sure her sudden outburst hadn’t caused mascara streaks to run down her face. "You all right?"

"Yeah." She plastered on a smile and held her arms out for Rosie before reassessing, given the ketchup situation. "Better than ever."

"if you ever need to talk, I know Buffy’ll listen. We’ve put each other through enough…" Spike glanced to the expectant child in his arms and reconsidered his phrasing, "*heck* to be bloody experts on any mini-crisis. And you know that invitation’s always open for me." He offered her a weak smile. "Always looking out for my women, remember?"

Kelly nodded, the smile turning authentic, if still a little shaky. "Always."

"I better head on over to the shop. I’m sure Ripper’s dug up something terribly boring to look into. That and I gotta start packing my whopping two outfits for the trip overseas. And Buffy and I were gonna go out tonight. Patrol, Bronze, the usual. You and Zangy are welcome to tag along. I’m sure the Nibblet’d love to ‘sit for cutie here."

"Only because we pay better than any family in town."

"That’s one reason." He paused with forethought, knowing instinctually that she wasn’t going to be ready to be within any proximity of Slater. "Walk you home?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "I’d like that."


	4. Chapter 4

Spike walked into the Magic Box after safely returning Zack’s wife and child to their home where they were presumably settling down for an afternoon nap. Tensions were high when he foot in the building, as everyone was busy with one task or another.

Zack immediately walked over to the vampire. "Is she doing alright? Both of them?" The sincerity and worry that shone in his eyes was so clear that even Slater could see it.

"The two ‘em are just fine. Didn’t you think I could at leas’ watch ‘em for a little lunch?" Spike scoffed.

"Well, yeah." Zack rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, William. I haven’t got to really talk to her since it all happened. She didn’t want to talk when I got home last night. I knew that they’d be safe with you."

"They’re fine," Buffy said walking over to the two, a special smile on her face for her husband.

"How do you know?" Spike pouted.

"I just got off the phone with Kelly. I called to ask if we could borrow one of their suitcases. I thought we could use a piece from that set that Zack’s parents bought them a few years back."

"Oh," Spike said dropping his defensive tone.

Buffy’s eyes lit up with mischief. "Thought I was checking up on you?"

"I just thought…" He turned to Zack. "Did you know that the little Nibblet of yours it’s running ‘round with—as she put ‘em—Feeworal demons?"

"What?" Buffy said in horror. "You guys have been letting her hang out with Fyarl demons? She knew what they were?"

"I set her straight," Spike said simply. "And she saw it on her own."

"I bet you couldn’t set anyone straight. Not even a little girl," Slater muttered from the corner. He was apparently still annoyed about last night and his loss of the Weetabix box.

"I can hear you there, wanker," Spike snapped.

Zack let out a deep sigh before interceding. "Please. We all have short tempers today. We’ve already had to hear the disputes of the Harris household."

"Don’t start, Zack," Lisa growled. "I just don’t think that I can leave right now. The stores are all over my designs. Do you know how hard it is to actually find people with taste in Sunnydale? You couldn’t even begin to imagine."

"I’m past the point of even finding offense with that," Willow said.

"This is from the girl who married Xander. Talk about taste," Zack joked. He quickly looked at Xander and said. "Just kidding you know."

"Thanks," Xander retorted. "That just makes the whole pride bashing that much more funny, huh?"

"God, I don’t think that I can take much more of this," Giles groaned.

"Soon we’ll be in England and everything will get better," Dawn tried to reassure. Then she absentmindedly added, "Unless something terribly horrible happens."

"Dawnie," Zack groaned. "Even I have learned not to jinx ourselves like that."

Dawn simply smiled wickedly before going back to research.

"Just two more days guys," Willow reminded Zack and Spike. "Do you guys have everything worked out? You did get all the requests and suggestions, didn't you?"

"Don’t worry, Red," Spike reassured. "Everything will work out perfectly, if I do say so myself." He proceeded to smugly straighten the collar of his shirt.

"I think you might want to begin panic mode," Xander chided.

"Very funny," Zack sarcastically replied. "Actually, Spike and I have tickets for Washington D.C. in the morning. We're heading there to pick up Josh. We called Ferris and he's going to fly out of L.A. and meet us at Heathrow when we all get there." He sent Xander a patronizing look before continuing. "So as you can see, we are actually preparing."

"Who's all coming tomorrow?" Spike asked.

"I'm not too sure. I reserved 6 tickets. Thought Kelly, Rosie and I. You and Buffy. Then possibly Dawn or Giles. Or Willow. Or Oz. Or Ferris. Or—"

"We get the picture," Lisa snapped.

"Or even your husband," Zack replied. "I didn't know if he might want to get away from you."

"Go to hell, Zack. I've had a lot on my plate lately."

"From what I've heard, you've had a lot in your bed too."

"ZACK!" The room erupted.

"Sorry," he muttered in response. "Guess that was a little too far."

"Just a bit," Spike agreed. When Zack turned to look at him all he could do was shrug and smile.

"So were leaving tomorrow?" Buffy shrieked.

"Well…if you want," Zack stuttered. "I guess you can wait."

"I’ve got way too much packing to do," She then looked to her former Watcher. "You don’t think that we could just lock him in a cage or something and wait until we get back to figure everything out?"

"I second my missus," Spike added.

"Well…" Giles began doing his customary removal of glasses to wipe on the hem of his shirt. "No. I’ve been thinking long and hard about this and I think that this could actually be more serious than we might expect."

"Serious?" Zack asked. "But it’s Slater. Could Slater really be that important?"

"Hello!" Slater jumped up and yelled. "I’ve been here the whole time and I don’t appreciate the way the discussion is going. Especially the whole locking me up in a cage part. I am human, you know."

"Yes," Giles pointed out. "The human part is the whole issue right now. He is not sleeping at my house again. If not with Zack then at least you can stay with Lisa and Xander."

"What?" Xander said throwing the book he was thumbing through down on the table.

"Well, Slater and Lisa are high school friends," Willow pointed out. After seeing the angry look flashing in Xander’s eyes she quickly added, "Sorry."

"Needless to say, I have six tickets. Four are taken for sure," He looked at Spike. "You are going Mr. Bloody. Mrs. Bloody, are you?"

"Yeah, I’m coming."

"Giles?" Zack asked.

"No no. Thank you Zack. I do enjoy the nation’s capitol, but I should stay here as long as possible to see if I can figure out what exactly is going on with the current situation."

"Willow?"

"Oz and I already have our tickets booked."

"Dawn?"

"I’ll catch my flight with Giles. Sorry but I can already see how things will go. I’ll be watching Rosie while the two married couples are off having a wild passionate orgy or something."

"Dawn!" The three blonds in the room gasped. The girl merely replied with a shrug.

"I didn’t need to have that image put into my mind," Xander groaned. He shuddered as he added. "Zack and Spike. I still remember that whole kissing incident."

"It was an accident!" Zack yelled.

"Bloody hell, Harris. You know that wasn’t what you’re making it out to be, you wanker. Dammit all!"

"Is Rosie her name?" Slater interrupted.

"Who?" Spike asked quickly trying desperately to change the subject.

"Zack’s daughter."

"No," he sarcastically responded. "We were just talking ‘bout the dog."

"Good," Slater said with a sigh of relief. "I was going to hope Zack wouldn’t name his kid something as dumb as Rosie."

All eyes were torn between looking in horror as Slater or looking at the deepening shade of the father in questions face. The room fell completely silent and a long moment passed before Zack said between clenched teeth, "Her name is Rose Melody Joyce Morris."

A.C.’s eyes grew large as he said, "You mean she really is called Rosie?"

"We named her Rose after Kelly’s mother’s middle name."

"Oh," Slater simply said before taking his cue and shutting up.

"I think it would just be best if we tried to get some research done," Oz spoke up. Everyone was taken aback by his voice and quickly decided to follow his suggestion. The researching went on into the night even after the three members leaving in the morning made their exit.

*~*~*

The knock on the bedroom door quickly brought Buffy and Spike to the attention that they weren’t alone anymore. They had awakened in plenty of time to be ready for Zack and Kelly’s arrival to take them to the airport. After hearing the alarm clock, the couple had become distracted with their own personal wake up call.

Another knock occurred, followed with Kelly’s voice. "I’m sorry guys, but we’re going to be late."

"Bloody hell," Spike growled. "Planes are always going to D.C. Why the hell do we have to take one at seven in the fucking morning?"

Kelly winced and Buffy slapped him. "Don’t shoot the messenger," his wife berated crawling out of bed and pulling on her clothes. She then turned her words to Kelly. "How much time do we have?"

"Well we should get to the airport in about half an hour to have enough time to check in."

"Breakfast?" Spike grumbled.

Kelly smiles at him and it resonated through her voice on the other side of the door. "Zack and I picked some up. He’s warming it up as we speak. I’m surprised that you aren’t more eager Spike," Kelly pleasantly chided. "It’s all bright and sunny out there. I thought you would want to go out and frolic."

Even Spike had to give a bit of a chuckle at the thought of himself outside frolicking in the sun. "You know me Kelly," he said. "I wasn’t sure whether the daisies were ready for picking yet."

Both women broke into giggles at the image. Soon after the door opened and both vampires came out completely dressed and bringing luggage. The three of them headed down stairs with bags. As soon as he reached the last step, a bright blue-eyed girl with bobbing pigtails ran across the room to the comfort of her uncle’s arms. "Uncle Spike!" she called with open arms.

He dropped his suitcase and scooped her up in his arms. "Morning Bit," he said planting a kiss on her blond head.

Zack came in from the kitchen handing the vampires their heated breakfast. "She’s been so excited to be going on a airplane. She’s been hoping that her Uncle Spike will sit with her. Couldn’t get her to stop talking about it all morning."

Spike was touched by the girl’s eyes. When her daddy mentioned the topic, she looked up at the man holding her with wide questioning eyes. He responded by saying, "Well she better sit next to me. I sure don’t wanna sit by her father. He’ll be wanting to talk shop and all that ruddy junk."

Suddenly a voice spoke up behind Spike that he hadn’t noticed before. It took a minute for it to register. "I want to sit next to you," it demanded.

"What?" Spike said whirling around. It took his a moment before he realized to look down. When he did, he was taken aback with who he saw standing there. "What the bloody hell?"

Kelly nervously giggled, causing both Spike and Buffy to turn to her with a sharp look in their eyes.

"It’s a really funny story," Kelly began.

"No it’s not," Zack interceded. "Xander called and pleaded with us to take him. Lisa is refusing to come to England and he wanted a little time to try and work things out with her before he left. Since their was an extra ticket, Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart volunteered to bring him with us before she could even think about it."

Kelly rolled her eyes at her husband’s comment and added, "In my defense, it was 3:30 in the morning."

"No excuse," Spike responded.

"Well," Buffy said looking down at Stephen. "What’s done is done, so let’s get over it. Willow and Oz are here so let’s leave him at the house."

"I promised," Kelly whined.

"Fine, Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart," Buffy pouted as she picked up her bags and headed out the door.

After they all pled into the van, the ride over was done mainly in silence. Spike and Buffy were busy drinking their breakfast while Kelly was feeding both the children some fruit that she had cut up and brought.

"I want McDonalds," Stephen burst out.

Zack who was behind the wheel of the mini-van, glared back at the boy through the rearview mirror. "You have breakfast."

Rosie nodded her head in agreement. "Uh huh. We have strawberries and blueberries and cantaloupe and pineapple. Pineapple’s the nummiest."

"I don’t want stupid pineapple," The boy said crossing his arms. "I want McDonalds."

Kelly bit her lip before mentioning. "You also ate back at the house before we left. You had bacon and eggs and toast. Remember?"

"It would have helped if the brat had sat down and ate it," Zack growled.

"Am I a brat, Daddy," Rosie said in a little panic. "I didn’t want any. I didn’t eat it."

"No sweetie-pie," Zack said his voice softening. "You’re eating that fruit Mommy has."

"Just hit the child and it will learn to shut up," Spike growled.

"That’s bab, Uncul Phike," Rosie reprimanded right after stuffing her mouth with another piece of pineapple. She began to giggle at the idea of talking with her mouth full, but her intentions were interrupted when Stephen reached over and slapped her arm. Rosie didn’t know what to say, so she merely stared back at him with tears welling up in her eyes.

"Don’t hit her," Spike snapped. He then set up to knock the kid a good one. As soon as he made the slightest contact with the side of his head, pain shot through him and he wailed out in pain as he clutched his head.

"Oh, Spike," Kelly said into the backseat again. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," He squeaked. "Just dandy."

"How dare you," Rosie growled. "You never hurt my Spike." This caught the entire vans attention, including the driver who had just pulled into the airport parking lot.

"Whatcha gonna do," Stephen said with a smirk on his face. The response he received wasn’t at all what he thought. Rosie reached over and punched him square in the nose. The boy immediately burst into tears.

"I told you not to ever never hurt my Spike," she said again with even more conviction than before. She quickly realized the error of her ways and looked around at the faces in the vehicle to hear their words of disapproval or meet their blows of reprimand. Her big scared eyes were met with small smiles, and the car pretended to ignore the entire incident.

Check in at the airport was a long and drawn out process, but they all made it to their seats before the plane was off the ground. Seating was made difficult due to the children’s demands and requests. Rosie, much to Stephen’s dismay had spoken up and claimed the window seat while also requesting her Uncle Spike by her side. Stephen screamed at the top of his lungs until Buffy switched seats with him so he could also sit next to the popular platinum vampire. Then, Rosie realized that she was too far away from her mother and asked everyone to move down so Kelly could have the window seat. This left Buffy and Zack in despair of deciding which one of the two had to sit next to "Spawn". In the end, Stephen was mildly content surrounded by husband and wife. "Are we there yet?" Stephen asked after the plane had been in the air less than ten minutes. Spike and Buffy exchanged nervous glances before looking to Zack who was resting his head on the back of his seat, headphones on, and Kelly, who was busy pointing things out in the window with a glowing little girl on her lap.

"Oh bugger," Spike groaned. The plane zoomed forward destined for Washington D.C.

*~*~*

Several hours later, the jumbo jet roared out of the sky and onto the runway in the nation’s capitol. Everyone, not only the six from Sunnydale were more than ready to be off the plane and away from little Stephen Harris. Even the pilot gave the boy a dirty look as they walked past the cockpit. The group was able to find their luggage and be out by the rental cars in considerably good time.

As they stood in line for the next available attendant, Buffy turned to Kelly and said, "Are you regretting being Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart now?"

"You have no idea," the brunette replied.

"I wanna go home," Stephen whined, tearing away from the grasp of Kelly’s hand.

"Don’t worry, Stephen," Kelly replied in her sweet and motherly tone. "You’ll see your daddy tomorrow. Just think of this as a big sleepover. OK?"

"No."

"Just leave him here, Kel. We’ll tell ‘em that demons got him of something. Buffy was in the bathroom and couldn’t save him."

Kelly gave a small chuckle and offered a sad smile, but replied. "Nope. Still Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart here. Can’t go off and leave a small child in the middle of an airport. No matter who it is."

"Well, it was worth a shot," Zack said. He then looked at his wife to see the expression on her face. She could forgive the insensitivity of the soulless vampire, but the soulful human wasn’t given the same kind of leniency.

"You better watch it there, Mr. Morris," She replied. "Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart can just as easily become Ms. Kelly Goody Heart."

"Point taken," he said looking deep into his wife’s eyes and giving her a look that made her heart melt on contact.

"Can I help you?" a voice said jolting Zack from his little romantic moment. He quickly turned to look at the open attendant at the counter. In spite of himself, when he saw the person he let out a yelp.

"Holy fuck!" Kelly gasped out in a momentary lapse of motherly etiquette. Rosie was too overcome by the sight to even mention the occurrence. She simply clung tighter to her mother’s embrace. As they approached, all could clearly see the confirmation of the nametag that said "Hello. My name is Wanda." The woman (if the term can be used that loosely) behind the counter, again croaked her original question seemingly not recognizing the people now in front of her.

"Umm…yes," Zack slowly began. "We would like to rent a car for the day."

"Who’s paying?" She asked before coughing right into Zack’s face.

"That would be me," Zack disgustedly replied.

"Hold on," She snapped while she turned and hobbled to the back to get the proper forms.

"Oh God," Kelly began in a fierce whisper as soon as the woman was out of earshot. "I knew that we shouldn’t have come back to Washington. Zack, what’s going to happen next? I don’t think I can take this. It brings back too many memories."

Buffy took Rosie out of the other woman’s grasp and placed a comforting hand on her back. "It’s okay, Kelly. Things are different now. Let’s just try and think positively."

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "Besides we’ll only be here for a night. It’s not like anything too bad could—" He quickly broke off his thought as he remembered the circumstances surrounding their last single night in Washington D.C.

"We only have one available right now," Wanda said coming back to the front. "It’s 1999 Chevy Cavalier."

Zack wrinkled his nose, but nodded in agreement. "That’s fine."

"Out of curiosity," Buffy began. "What color?"

"Fuchsia," the woman replied matter-of-factly.

"Bugger that," Spike said picking up as much luggage as he could carry. "Let’s just get a sign that says ‘Look at the poncy poofters!’"

"I don’t want to walk around in Washington D.C.," Kelly said in resignation. "Sunnydale is bad enough, but Washington D.C. has the highest crime rate in the nation."

"Committed by humans," Spike pointed out. "Sunnyhell makes DC look like Mayberry."

"Needless to say," Zack said. "I don’t want to walk to the White House, so were taking the damn fuchsia colored car." He then turned to Wanda and began filling out the forms.

In less than an hour they were then riding along in the cramped little car. "I’m hungry," Stephen whined.

"Go eat your arm or something," Spike growled to the kid in the back. Due to the lack of seating room, Kelly sat in the back with Rosie on her lap surrounded by Buffy and Stephen on either side of her.

"Me too," Rosie whined into her mother’s chest. "My tummy is saying ‘grumble grumble grumble. Feed me before I eat you.’"

"Oh, you hungry, pet?" Spike asked with a tone a panic. "It is lunch time, innit? Can we find a place to stop, Zangy boy?"

Zack noticed the double standard and grinned. He said, "Hold on back there. I’m looking. That tummy better not do any eating of my Rosie before she gets to eat her lunch." Rosie giggled as her stomach growled loudly.

Buffy quickly started reaching around into her purse, which she was able to sneak some necessary nourishment for her and her husband. She was able to come across a partially eaten Snickers bar that she had purchased back in the Sunnydale airport. "Here ya go, honey." She said handing it to Rosie. "Maybe that will help that pesky grumble."

"What about me?" Stephen whined kicking the back of Spike’s seat.

"Sorry," Buffy said in an unsentimental voice. "That’s all I have."

"Here you go," Rosie said breaking the remaining candy bar in half and handing it to the little terror. "Maybe it will help your pesky grumble too."

"But this isn’t anything."

"It’s more than you had before," Rosie astutely pointed out. She then turned to Buffy. "Thank you Aunt Buffy." She reached over and gave the Slayer as big of a hug as she could.

"Oh, Rosie. You’re welcome," Buffy said returning the embrace.

"Hey it looks like our lucky day," Zack said pulling into a McDonalds parking lot.

"Yes," Kelly groaned. "Nothing like processed lard. This doesn’t help the whole diet thing you know."

"Remember how we used to always joke about McDonalds being a drug provider," Zack reminisced with a smile. "Anyways," he said a moment later. "That wasn’t what I meant. There’s a butcher shop and deli right down the street. I would have stopped there, but I didn’t think raw meat would be a good kiddy’s meal."

"Wouldn’t make me happy," Kelly admitted.

"Well then this does work out perfect," Buffy said as they all vacated the parked vehicle

Lunch went by without too much excitement. All got to eat what they wanted and nobody complained. After eating, Zack and Spike decided that they should probably change before waltzing into the White House. Zack was smart enough to bring a suitable pair of dress slacks and a nice button up shirt. Spike on the other hand had an attire that was at two extremes. Since their first performance, they had used the black suits as one of their trademark symbols. It was either that or jeans and a t-shirt. Needless to say, Spike was a bit uncomfortable when he walked out of the men’s room adjusting his tie.

"Hello there tall dark and handsome," Buffy said with a sultry smile.

"I think he’s actually a bit pale," Kelly commented. When Spike gave her a look she added. "But don’t worry. Now you can work on that. Just be careful. First time you try to tan you always burn."

"Yes. That does tend to happen when I play in the sunlight," Spike said with a poignant glare.

"Where are the kids?" Zack said following Spike and adjusting his own black tie.

"Ohhh," Kelly cooed. "You’re a pretty boy, too. Don’t worry. We were able to watch the children in your absence. Don’t know how we managed, do you Buf?"

"Nope," Buffy said taking on an overly innocent tone. Her eyes got wide as she said, "Not at all. I don’t know how we got by without you guys. Thank God you are out of the restroom facility. We don’t know what would have happened. I know I might be the Slayer, but I lost Rosie in the fun slide for a bit."

"Oh shove it, Slayer," Spike said as he sat back down next to his wife.

"Really. Didn’t have to completely belittle us, did you?" Zack asked.

The women looked at each other in deep contemplation for a moment before simultaneously nodding in agreement.

Zack glanced down at his watch. "Cute, but we better get going. I don’t know how late the People’s House is open, but I’m going to be pissed if the building my tax dollars built is closed when we get there."

"I’m not wearing this again in the morning," Spike said with obstinate conviction.

"Well come on then," Kelly said getting up and gathering the children.

Out of the ordinary, it was Rosie who was the difficult one when it came time for them to leave. Stephen was easily to catch since he was throwing the plastic balls at a little girl. He was too distracted making the two-year old cry to notice Kelly reach out and smack him before scooping him up. Rosie was determined not to leave quite yet and placed herself up in the top of the fun slide. She found a window at the top and looked down upon her parents and godparents. When they caught her eye, they made signals to come down. She simply shook her head.

"Rosie," Kelly said in her mommy-no-nonsense tone. Rosie actually responded by sticking out her tongue.

"Rosie, no. Get down now," Buffy attempted at reprimanding the small child. The girl responded by giggling and shaking her head.

"Rose," Her father tried in a angry growl. The girl flinched and lost some of her sparkle, but continued to shake her head in refusal. "Get down here before I come up there drag you out."

"You’d get stuck," Rosie giggled. The muffled response was carried to the adults ears and Zack’s face grew redder in frustration.

"You guys have no finesse," Spike sighed in disbelief. He then raised his voice so the child could hear his words. "Rose Melody Joyce Morris. Don’t make me angry."

The girls smile immediately vanished. Tears instantaneously began to trickle down her cheeks. "Are you mad at me?"

"Not yet. But I’m getting there, Bit." The response had her at the bottom of the slide in record speed. She was sobbing now.

"I’m sorry. I was being funny," She said gasping for air as she wailed on. Zack went for his daughter, but Uncle Spike snatched her up first.

"Don’t cry. No need for tears. You came down. That’s what we wanted." His soft words of comfort were accompanied by his fingertips brushing the tears off her cheeks.

"I’m sorry." She sniffled before looking at her dad. "Are you mad?"

"No," he sighed. Nobody could stay mad after that. "Just don’t do it again. It wasn’t that funny. OK?"

Rosie did what she had rarely did since she was a baby. She reached for Zack while in her uncle’s embrace. Zack immediately noted this. He was never jealous because he knew she was "daddy’s little girl", but he was more than obliged to pluck her out of his best friend’s arms and give her a big kiss.

"That was interesting," Spike commented as he grabbed the keys from Zack’s fist and walked to the driver’s side of the car.

"Spike," Zack called to the platinum vampire. "Don’t even think about getting into that seat unless you know how to get to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I’m not going to let you get us lost in the ghettos of D.C."

"Can’t yeah tell me?" Spike complained.

"Okay…okay…" Zack said getting into the passenger’s seat, still holding his daughter. "Just make sure don’t get us lost. We need to get there before Josh leaves for the day. I have his home address, but no idea how the bloody hell we’d find it."

Spike did a remarkably good job navigating through the streets of Washington D.C. He kept them on track and even Zack conceded that he handle the traffic jams exceedingly well. They were able to make it to the West Wing before the afternoon was over.

The men went straight to the reception desk as the women and children looked at various paintings throughout the lobby. "Hello," Zack said the receptionist, an old man who looked to be at least in his forties. "We’re looking for Josh Lyman.

"Your point?" The man snapped.

"Well, we would like to see him. We’re friends of his," Zack added.

"I’m sure," the man said sarcastically. "Long time buddies."

"We are!" the vampire growled.

"Who are you?"

"Spike," he replied before thinking.

"Spike?"

"It’s his nickname," Zack said shakily. He thought about it a second then nodded.

"Well, Mr. Lyman is out of the building, so I’m afraid you can’t see him here."

"Where it’s the bloke then?" Spike snapped.

"He’s off on Presidential business. I’m afraid that I can say no more."

"I don’t believe him, Zangy," Spike whispered.

Zack nodded in agreement. He noticed that a group of people were lining up for a White House tour. "How many more of those are there today? I promised the wife a glimpse of the House."

"This is the last one of the day. How many?"

"Six. Four adults and two children.

With that they were set for the tour. When they started, Zack and Spike stayed at the back of the group. They reassured the girls that they would catch up with them by the end.

"That was smooth there, Morris," Spike said with admiration.

"Aww shucks," Zack said with a bit of color gathering in his cheeks. "You know if it came to just bursting in there, you would have me beat any day of the week."

"Still," Spike praised. "You didn’t miss a beat."

"Well…look. I think that door leads to the west wing. Let’s just slip on in there and see what Josh has to say."

The men casually slipped through the door and had a break of good luck when the guards were berating a small boy who had burst through the door just ahead of them.

"First good thing that Spawn’s ever done."

"Let’s just hope our luck holds out," Zack said s the rounded the corner.

"Can I help you?" An annoyed voice asked directly behind them.

"Ummm…" Zack stalled. He couldn’t come up with a good reply.

"If you go any slower, I think you’ll forget why you’re here."

Zack decided to turn and face the familiar voice. He did and came face to face with a familiar one. "Toby!" He cackled and hugged him.

Toby’s eyes almost popped out of his head. First with the shock of seeing the pair of men here and second with the force of the embrace. "How did you get in here?" he gasped.

"Was easy as hell," Spike admitted. "Need better protection than that."

"You know you guys aren’t supposed to be in here," Toby pointed out.

Spike merely scoffed but Zack said, "Yeah, where’s Josh?"

"He’s not here."

"Toby!" A voice boomed.

"Coming," he called to it.

"Where is he then?" Zack demanded.

"London."

"Toby!" The voice called from right behind them now.

"Leo. Look, give me a minute. I have to take care of a few friends of Josh."

"Who are they?" Leo asked with blatant disregard that they were in earshot.

"Those guys from California that he’s in a band with."

"Oh," Leo said pondering a moment before looking at Zack and Spike. "Are you any good? He’s never let us hear a thing."

"We’re smashing," Spike declared. "Did you say he’s in London?"

"There’s a large conference going on with the Prime Minister," Leo said before turning to walk away. "Nice to meet you and Toby I still need to talk to you about that issue."

"What?" Zack asked.

"Nothing," Toby sighed. "Stupid green bean issue from years ago. Did you know that it’s a big deal that the President doesn’t like green beans?"

Both men stared back at Toby a moment before deciding not to comment. "London?" Spike repeated.

"Yeah," Toby said walking to his office and motioning the two to follow. "Trying to take care of some war business that the previous President got us into. The Middle Eastern country will go unnamed, but Europe’s still kinda pissed about it."

"Isn’t Bartlet in his second term?" Zack asked. "Has it really taken this long for them to get over it?"

"Two words," Toby groaned. "Freedom fries."

"Bloody stupid poofter, he was," Spike said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah," Toby said changing the subject. Before he could say another word, the office door flew open and a dark haired man walked in.

"Toby, I need that draft so I can make the revisions on the healthcare initiative," he said before realizing the man wasn’t alone. "Oh sorry," he quickly added before trying to shut the door.

"No problem, Will," Toby reassured. "Will Bailey, meet Zack and Spike. There is Josh’s rock band."

"Oh…hi," Will said coming over and shaking Zack’s hand. He looked at the platinum blond and made a distinct hesitation before shaking his hand as well. "Umm…nice hair."

"I bleach it myself," Spike replied with a grin at the other man’s intimidation.

"Yes, well anyway…" Will tried at conversation. "Did he tell you that he’s not here?"

"Yes," Toby answered. "This astute man," he said gesturing to Will, "took the place of Sam when he left. Believe it or not, he’s actually eloquent when he wants to be. At least on paper."

"Thanks," Will replied dryly before turning to head out. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Zack replied.

"You should try a little hair bleaching yourself," Spike commented.

"Yes… I’ll consider that," Will said before shutting the door.

As soon as the door shut, Zack turned back to Toby. "When are they leaving?"

"They’ll be there until Wednesday," the head of the speech writing staff answered.

Zack looked at Spike and said, "Well, let’s get to the Mother Country, then."


	5. Chapter 5

Things at the Magic Box were almost quiet—reflective in a sense where no one knew exactly what there was to do but wait. Around noon, Xander and Willow got into a heated debate over who would assume that night’s patrol should they not hear from the travelers, both ignoring Oz who mentioned rationally that they should invest in leaving regardless of updates from the first front. While attending Professor Snape’s party was not on anyone’s priority list—at least those who knew him—Dumbledore himself had extended the invitation, and even those unfamiliar with the world beyond Muggles knew just how great such an honor was.

The standstill was nearly disturbing. Sunnydale was not meant to be peaceful, regardless of its deceptively small size. Giles was well aware from years of experience that silence merited brewing badness, and there was nothing more abhorrent than an evil born strong only because they made it so. That on top of the notion that they would be out of town, and thus out of reach should anything go horribly wrong, made him more than uncomfortable. He was beginning to reconsider his role in the extravaganza at all, though he could not deny the inherent elation at the thought of stepping off the plane and into crisp, London, un-American air.

"How do you think they’re doing?" Dawn asked quietly, breaking the silence that had spanned nearly three hours.

Giles was preoccupied with a cup of coffee and did not immediately offer a rejoinder. From where she was seated at the reading table, Lisa glanced up disinterestedly, and resumed looking over her latest designs. Xander was in the training room with Slater and Willow, trying to determine if the recently undeceased was of the human variety, and Oz was entertaining Angelus and Clarice to make sure they didn’t seize advantage of Buffy’s absence to run more of amuck than usual.

"If I know Spike and Zack…" the Watcher began thoughtfully. Then he frowned. "We’re doomed."

"Nice. Love how you’re being Mr. Optimism."

"I do try."

"God, no!" Lisa exclaimed in sudden mortification. The words had barely escaped her lips—neither occupant had been given full time to whirl in anticipation of a looming attack—before she glanced up sheepishly. "I used the blue nightingale instead of the navy. This is going to set me way back."

Xander reentered the main foyer of the shop in time to catch that remark, and his eyes widened at the implications. Willow and Slater were close behind—the helplessly confused look on the Witch’s face betraying her unsolved bewilderment. It seemed there would be no disclosing the origins of the should-be-dead man’s reappearance. Not anything useful, and that thought was unsettling. There was no doubt in Giles’s mind that Slater’s reanimation had something to do with the fact that the Hellmouth was being suspiciously quiet, and he was furthermore moved to stay put while his Slayer and her Scoobies ventured outward to perform this inane request.

"You’re still going, though," Harris asked as he moved to see what had his wife’s knickers in a twist this time. To the untrained eye, it appeared that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the drawing, but he knew better than to second-guess her. "I’m not handling Spawn all by myself."

"Did you just call our own son Spawn?"

"Did I?" He didn’t even bother to look apologetic. "I meant Stephen."

Dawn snickered. "You know you’ve been hanging around the Blonde Duo too much when…"

At that, he managed to look defensive. "Hey! I have not!"

"Ohh, please. It’s sort of ridiculous how jealous you are that they haven’t let you into their ‘club’."

"There’s a club?" Slater asked, flabbergasted.

"No," Xander snapped. "There’s no club. Just Spike and Zack and the wackiness that ensues. Those two meeting was the worst thing that could have ever happened to us."

"Hey!" Lisa yelped. "Hi, remember me? Your wife?"

"Oh, right." However, there was no forthcoming apology. And she wouldn’t press the issue. She simply didn’t care.

Slater sighed heavily and moved to retrieve one of the proffered sodas that sat atop the counter. He popped it open and assumed the vacant seat next to Lisa; completely disregarding her alleged need to work. "So," he said conversationally, "tell me about this Spike. He and Preppy get along really well?"

"Kinda scary at times," Willow confirmed with a nod. "I mean, I don’t live here or anything…not permanently…but they seem to be even chummier than they were before I moved to England."

"Spike’s not exactly known for making male friends," Xander agreed. "Well, making and keeping male friends. They usually end up stealing his girlfriend…or hating him. Whichever comes first."

"Doesn’t sound like much of a catch to me if his girlfriends are the type that wanna get stolen."

"Hey!" Dawn yelped defensively, as though she was making up for Slater’s comment and all of Xander’s indifference toward his wife. "None of that was his fault. He made some bad choices…romantically…in the past. Dru was insane and she was still in love with Angelus. So when he came back, it was natural that she went to him. Buffy’s never cheated on him, though."

"No, it only took her forever and a day to admit they were actually in a relationship," Xander pointed out.

"But they’re totally inseparable now. You might not know it from the way she acts, but she’s completely in love with him." Dawn’s insistence of this fact might have made the entire notion fall under the heading of unconvincing if such knowledge was not already commonplace. "It’s her first normal relationship…ever."

"So that’s why he and Zack get along so well?" Slater asked. "Zack doesn’t try to move in on Buffy?"

"And Spike doesn’t move in on Kelly." Dawn’s eyes darkened. "Unlike other people in this room."

"Hey! I have no memory of that!"

She shrugged. "So what? You still did it."

Willow decided that it was time to intervene again. Things had the habit of getting hairy when left untended. "Guys," she moderated. "Chill. We won’t get anything accomplished with—"

"Well, we’re obviously not getting anything accomplished now!" Lisa snapped, jumping to her feet. "Look at us—I mean you! You’ve been up to your ears in researching and we still don’t know why the fuck Slater’s back! For all intents and purposes…for God’s sake, he was supposed to be digested years ago!"

There it was. The admission. The confession. The last. The truth that everyone had been trying to keep from Slater since his reappearance two days earlier. The real secret behind his death: cannibalism.

"I was…eaten?" he asked, barely a whisper.

Dawn adapted a deer-in-highlights look and met Lisa’s astonished eyes with further additives of horror. "I…" she started. "I wasn’t there…but…ummm…"

There was anger now. That was understandable. "Who. Was?"

"Erm…"

The bells above the Magic Box door jingled to announce the presence of Anya, who strutted merrily into the conversation with a blissfully ignorant look on her face. A look that soon melted when she realized that the people in her shop were not buying—rather standing around rather dumbfound with nothing to do.

Then she spotted the coke can in Slater’s hand, and she scowled.

"Giles, did you make the annoying recently-alive guy pay for his drink?"

"No," came the muffled, disinterested retort.

"I thought we agreed that in a society based and founded on capitalism that we would attempt to maintain the store in the way that God and nature intended—"

"I’m trying to figure out something here!" Slater yelled, throwing the soda in question across the room. It fizzed and spurted and made a mess over the jar of newt eyes, and Anya gasped her offense. "Who was there when I was eaten?!"

"Oh, are you all upset about that? Honestly, humans need to learn to not live in the past," the vengeance demon retorted, not reacting to the horror on everyone’s faces. "Zack, Kelly, Lisa, and that strange looking fellow who was appointed Congressman for California. Oh, and Dr. Lecter and Clarice, of course. That would be before she was a vampire, though I suppose irony could be found in the notion that her first night of sampling human flesh led to a diet structured entirely on the intake of blood."

The stunned silence was growing longer and more outraged.

"Zack…" Slater whispered. "He…he ate…he…" He turned to Lisa in horror. "And you! You…"

Lisa’s eyes bulged. "Hey! Hold on, there! Lecter threatened to make me dessert. What was I supposed to do?"

"Well, here’s a thought: not eat me!" Slater was heaving rapid breaths in strong concession. Slowly, the fire in his eyes began to dwindle, and he forced himself to calm down. "Okay…Zack helped kill me…ate me…and replaced me with a chain-smoking Billy Idol wannabe."

"Actually, we’ve met Billy Idol," Anya said unhelpfully. "Spike is no Billy Idol."

"You forgot to add ‘vampire’ in that mix," Willow pointed out, a little dazed. Xander had to assist her to a seat. She hadn’t been expecting everything to come out like that.

"Right!" Slater continued. "A VAMPIRE! Well, isn’t that dandy? How exciting! I guess you really know who your friends are when—"

"They don’t sleep with your wives?" Xander offered unsympathetically.

"Yes! No! I—argh! I can’t believe he would do this to me!"

"Well, you did—"

"Hello! I’m thinking murder and cannibalism is a little worse than infidelity!"

The bells above the door rang once more to announce the arrival of Angelus, Oz, and Clarice. Unfortunately, Slater’s comment was not delayed enough to escape the witty insight of a soulless demon, who had to physically drag himself away from his lover’s embrace before offering a toothy, "Well, boy…I guess that really depends on who you talk to, doesn’t it?"

"Baby, who is that?" Clarice asked, not looking up as she nipped at his neck, hand slowly sliding down to a place no one wanted to think of.

"Who is it?!" Slater all but shrieked, marching forward. "Hello! Don’t you remember an entrée when you see one?"

Clarice studied him for a long minute before shrugging. "Not typically. I’m not one to ask before I bite."

"I’ll vouch for that," Angelus smirked.

"Oh God, I can’t believe this…" Slater moved back to the table and sat down, fists clenching and unclenching as he attempted to channel his steadily growing rage.

"I take it I missed something," Oz observed in his usual monotone.

"Who are you?" Slater snapped. "Someone else who—"

Thankfully, the phone rang before hasty accusations could be made, and everyone save the vampires, the vengeance demon, and the indifferent werewolf leapt to answer it. Giles, being by the register, naturally reached it first and all but sighed in relief when he heard the news.

"That was Kelly," he reported, hanging up the phone. "Everything is set. We leave tonight." 

"Really?" Dawn asked with the excitement bubbling through her. "I just can't wait! I get to actually go somewhere and actually do something without everything being all apocalypse like." She began bobbing her head back and forth and grinning wildly.

"Let us hope that this trip turns out to be one of leisure," Giles said, remembering to be realistic. "But everything isn't going to be all that easy. We still have a very serious problem here that we must solve before too long. I'm afraid that we're going to have to bring work along with us."

"Well, I guess that means we're bringing the exceedingly annoying new guy along then, huh?" Anya said unfazed.

"Yes," Giles said slowly. His eyes narrowed and began to glare directly at Slater.

"You better not be thinking about that cage idea again," Slater said throwing his hands up in the air. "Because so help me God, I could take you, old man."

Giles didn't comment but continued to hold his gaze of deep concentration. His scowl grew deeper for a moment as he finished his thought and simply gave the man a dirty look.

Meanwhile, Xander took defense against Slater's comment. "Excuse me. I think that he could take more shit than you could ever work up. How many demons have you slayed in your time? Somehow I think that being some jack-ass jock isn't really going to protect yourself."

"I won the California State Championship in wrestling back in high school," Slater sulked.

"Well," Xander sneered. "Giles has saved the state of California and the whole damn world more than once."

"Xander," Giles breathlessly interceded. "Thank you, but I really don't feel that I have anything to prove. I'm really not as much of a saint as you make me out to be, but thank you for the defense."

"Any time," Xander blushed.

"Do you not know how to be quiet," Lisa screamed slugging Xander in the shoulder. "I can't concentrate when you over here nagging about the virtues of Giles's vitality."

"Prolific," Anya snickered. "Are you sure that you should use that many large words in one sentence." She then turned to Dawn. "I think she might have used her limit for the day." The comment invoked a series of guilty chuckles followed by downward glances.

"Go to hell," Lisa retorted.

"Yup," Anya said with a smile. "I was right."

"Guys," Willow moderated. "Let's get a move on. We need to all get packed." And everyone followed her suggestion and locked up shop.

*~*~*

Zack and Spike tried to get the first flight to England, but all were booked until about three in the morning. They booked their seats and then decided to get a couple rooms to try and unwind. They demanded from Toby the name of a good Chinese place, and had it delivered to the room after they ran back to the butcher shop.

Things seemed to be going well for the two couples. They partook in a quiet evening of talking over food while sitting on the beds. All sensed that the simple peace was too good to be true, but none wanted to be the one to speak the truth out loud. The kids were exhausted by the excitement of the day, and had fallen asleep shortly after receiving their dinner on the sofa by the television. Currently, the women were sitting legs crossed on one of the two beds, while both men were laying down on the other.

"Kelly," Zack began. "Do you know where that list of song requests are at?"

"Yeah," Kelly said swallowing her bite of chicken fried rice. She motioned for Buffy to hand her the glass of water on the nightstand and said, "Spike, can you get it? It's in my purse right there on the floor."

"Like I don’t have better things to do than be the Morris bitch," he grumbled as he obliged.

"Thank you," Kelly smiled. "I'll make sure that Buffy has ample opportunity to show you gratitude."

"Really?" Spike's eyebrows arched at the suggestion, a smirk formed on his lips.

"Yes, really?" Buffy said dryly looking at Kelly. "And thank you for nominating without my consent."

"I didn't nominate you for anything that you wouldn't do willingly," Kelly pointed out.

Zack had slyly snatched the list out of Spike's grasp as soon as he pulled it from the bag. As he thumbed through it, he said to Spike, "I think our women are in a bit of a promiscuous mood this evening."

"You better not be complaing," Spike reprimanded his friend.

"No no no," Zack reassured. "Merely calculating who gets the bathroom first."

"We do have little innocents here, don't we?" Spike said motioning to the two sleeping children.

"I'm afraid that does put a damper on any naughty ideas you were having," Buffy pointed out to her husband.

He merely grinned wickedly and stated, "I bet I can still make 'em happen."

"No way!" Zack cried out.

"I could too," The platinum vampire replied in a huff.

Zack looked up from the list that he was reading and rolled his eyes. He shook his head and said, "Not that. You could make anything like that work." The comment caused three pairs of eyes to light up with various responses, but he rolled his eyes and continued before a word could be said. "Have you seen the crazy stuff that they are wanting us to do?" He said hitting Spike in the chest with the papers. He then jumped out of the bed and began to pace.

"I knew about the minstrel show," Kelly unhelpfully pointed out. "I kinda thought that would be cute."

"Yup," the Slayer agreed. "But these guys really don't like the cute association. They're going more for the 'Big Bad' impression."

Her response caused both women to giggle, but Spike was too busy reading through the ridiculous list of requests to reply. Zack was pacing like mad across the floor. When Spike looked up to meet Zack's frustrated gaze, he had to laugh at his buddy's reaction.

"So what, Zangy?" He inquired. "He likes some poncy songs. The pay's good and it's Hogwarts. Suck it up."

"Don't you get it?" Zack said clenching and unclenching his fists. "He doesn't want to hear any of our music. He wants us to be his performing puppets!"

"Look," Spike began putting the list down. "We'll do the little minstrel show because these birds find it 'cute'," he said, mocking their wives. He earned a couple eye rolls and narrowed glances, but he continued on. "Then, we'll play a couple more poncy pieces before we say bugger that and play our stuff. Hey, we can try out that new one we wrote a couple days ago. I got the guitar all down. Did you get the bridge working?"

"A couple days?" Buffy skeptically asked. "Wasn't that the day of the dinner party? The one when you worked all day long?"

"You two!" Kelly berated before lowering her voice to a fierce whisper as to not wake the kids. "You turned Rosie into a little liar. I can't believe that despite all the evil she already has to witness, you show her that being a conniving little con is a good thing."

"They're good traits for the real world," Spike meekly said in defense.

"Can we get back to the point," Zack stammered.

"Zack," Kelly pleaded. The comment caused the man to go sit as his wife's side. He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"Good boy," Buffy said with a smile. Spike looked at her saucily and let out a low growl. "Not you, honey. That sounded like a bad boy."

"I'll be anything you want me to be."

Buffy gave him a look that said that she would make her request later, but spoke, "The only minstrel show I know is from White Christmas. How about you guys?"

"Never seen it," Zack admitted.

"What?" Kelly gasped pushing him away from her.

"You make it sound like it's a deadly sin or something."

"It is!" Buffy said. "You have to see it. Crosby and Clooney are the best."

"Guess you better see it before we do the show," Spike pointed out.

"You get no more loving till you can tell me what you do with a dog that bites you on Monday," Kelly said getting up and collecting the leftover food.

"Come on, Zack," Buffy said hopping up and pulling her shoes on. "We're going to go find a copy of that movie. You're going to watch it before we head to London."

"OK," Zack said grabbing his jacket. "You guys want to come along?"

"I'll stay with the kids," Kelly declined.

"And I'll need to.... I’m lazy. You go and I'll lie here keeping the bed warm," Spike said.

"Warm?" Kelly asked skeptically, earning a smirk.

"Well, it’s the thought that counts." He took the opportunity to wink at his wife. "Innit that right, pet?"

The Slayer declined comment. "Fine," she said. "We'll be back before the plane takes off."

"Could you stop by a store and get some snacks for the kids for the flight?"

"Sure," Zack said. Then he added before Spike even got the chance, "Weetabix is on the list."

"Good," he said placing his hands behind his head as he stretched out across the bed.

In the next instant the two were gone. Kelly straightened up the room for a bit and set out clothes for the kids. Spike sensed her nervously putter around the room even with his eyes closed. He knew something was unsettling her, but he remained calmly in his out-stretched position.

She tried to ignore all the turmoil going on inside. She knew that she shouldn't drag Spike into her dilemma, but she also knew that he was the only one that could give her the answers about her husband’s desires without going to the man in question herself. She placed the folded sundress she had laid out down and walked over to sit on the edge of Spike's bed. "Finally," he said letting out an unneeded sigh of relief. He never once moved enough to even open his eyes. "I was wondering how long you were going to pretend I wasn’t here."

She smiled. "No, Spike. It wasn't that. I just..." She struggled with a way to begin the conversation. "I don't know. I'm just... I'm just..." The panic was plain clear in her voice. Spike reached over and grasped her hand. He knew that whatever it was, it was going to be hard to say.

"You know how Zack always says that he's glad that.... well he regrets having Rosie and living in Sunnydale," she paused momentarily for breath. She was fighting to keep the tears at bay and Spike kept his lids and lips shut. "I know before you start that Zack loves her with all his heart. Just like he loves living on a Hellmouth." She chuckled at the thought. Her tone became serious again as she continued. "It’s just that he... he always says that he's glad that he doesn't have another one to worry about. That the two of us are enough trouble for him. I'm sure he's said that to you. Maybe even when you guys go to Willy's." With that Spike opened an eye and peaked at her. She was staring straight at him. She laughed in spite of herself at she saw the sheepish look lurk into his features. "I'm not as dense as everyone thinks...all the time. And warn Zack that the glove compartment isn't a good place to keep his stash." The vampire grinned. "No. What I mean is... Zack doesn't want any more kids. And I see his point. But we did always want and family, and—"

"Kelly," Spike said rolling onto his side to look up at her. "Just tell him you wanna make more babies. Tell him to start working up the oven for it."

"That's just it," Kelly choked. "The ovens been blazing, and it's already in the warmer."

"You mean...!" Spike said eyes wide opened, Kelly could only nod in concession before the dam broke and the tears came. She tried to get up and get to the bathroom before Spike could see her shoulders quake and the sobs come out, but he reached up and pulled her in his arms next to him. All hell broke loose then, and she spent the next five minutes weeping into his chest.

"I'm sorry," she said some minutes later as she was able to control herself again. "I shouldn't have put you in that position. You’re his best friend. I just wondered if you thought..." She pulled away to look at him.

"Whether Zack'll be happy 'bout the surprise?" he finished.

"Yeah," the brunette slowly replied.

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. A quick glance at the nightstand confirmed that Buffy and Zack had forgotten a room key. As Kelly ran over to open the door, she gave a look to Spike saying that she hoped the conversation wasn't over. He nodded in agreement as she opened the door.

Zack whizzed passed Kelly so fast that he nearly knocked her over. "Key!" he explained in a hurry, snatching it from Spike’s proffered hand. "And wallet! Forgot that, too."

The vampire smirked and tossed it to him. "Where’s Buffy?"

"Fending off about ten angry businessmen on their way to a late night meeting who swore that they hailed the cab first."

"And you left her there by herself?" Kelly admonished, whacking his arm.

"Hello! She is the Slayer! Not to mention a vamp. I don’t think my actions deserved an arm thwap. And ow!"

"Why the hell’re you taking a cab?" Spike demanded. "’S all right for ole Spikey to be seen driving the bloody fuchsia car but when it’s the almighty Za—"

"Shut up. I did drive it earlier today, Mr. Jumps-To-Conclusions. You should remember since you were in the car." He shook his head with a snicker. "And we’re taking the cab because it’s D.C and it’s night. I get turned around enough in the daylight."

Kelly shrugged. "You got us here, didn’t you?"

"Let’s just say I’m playing it safe." He turned to offer his wife a winning smile, but paused when he took in the telling red around her eyes that coincided with the swelling of her cheeks for the first time. "Are you all right? What’s wrong?"

The woman shot a panicked look to Spike as though just realizing the picture she presented, and the platinum vampire merely shrugged and reached for his cigarettes. "She’s just a little emotional," he said casually. "After all, it’s her boy’s first real big gig coming up. I’d wager that Buffy’s probably in the same condition. ‘Sides, wha’s there to look forward to back home? Still gotta deal with your former best mate, don’cha? I swear, Zangy, we gotta get these birds off the Hellmouth more often."

Zack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. While he knew that he had his wife’s support when it came to the band—and as long as he and Spike kept their inherently negative influence away from Rosie—it wasn’t like her to get weepy over it. Not the band. Kelly was a naturally weepy person, but the Dysfunctionals had never served as the source of her tears, happy or sad. Not even for their first gig, which to him made more of a lasting impression. It had, after all, initiated the first steps that brought them where they were.

"Buffy’s not in any condition," he told Spike absently.

"Y’don’t know that." At that, the vampire frowned and shot a mildly concerned glance to the vacant doorway. "Though someone better go check on her to make sure that she’s—"

"I’m out," Zack decided abruptly. "We’ll be back before you know it. Later."

Kelly didn’t release the breath she had been holding until the door was safely shut. It took two seconds for the tears to start flowing again. She was huddled in the vampire’s embrace before she knew it.

"’Atta girl," he said softly, patting her back. "Let it all out."

"I-I…" She sniffled miserably against his shirt. "I just…God, I don’t know what to do! And it’s come at a time where…everything’s all mixed up. Slater’s back and that’s wigging me out enough. We’re on our way to London so it’s not exactly the best time to…but if I wait, he’ll be…I don’t know what to do, Spike! And now I’m dragging you into this and that’s so completely unfair, and—"

"Hush." She felt the vampire take a deep, unneeded breath against her, but hadn’t the strength to lift her head. It wasn’t until he brushed dampened strands of hair from her face and pulled back to see her eyes that she finally granted him her gaze. There was no malice or semblance of hard feelings—only understanding and kindness. Further oddities for any sort of demon to display, especially one as reputed as him. William the Bloody was not supposed to be cordial and sweet, and yet here he was. It was more than impossible to imagine him any other way, despite what the Watcher’s Diaries said.

When he spoke, his tone was soft but firm. Nothing to offer but consideration. "Kelly, I can’t tell you what to do, and you know that. I can’t even say what Zangy’s response to all this’ll be. Regardless of how much of a chum he is to me, there are things ‘bout him that he reserves only for you. Just like there are things—and I mean as of the plenty—that I reserve only for the Slayer. And that’s the way it oughta be. This mess ‘bout being…well, I haven’t the first clue. As much as you birds might fancy softening us up, we don’t exactly go out and talk ‘bout the family we’d like to have or how many kids it’s enough. Granted, he might’ve mentioned that he wished things were different a time or two, but we don’t lose sleep over it. Most’ve our conversations center ‘round demons, assorted flicks, the occasional dollybird—and I do mean very occasional, Manchester United and how American football isn’t really football and all advocates of said dreadful sport should have their small intestine ripped out." Kelly snorted a blurb of laughter at that, the faintest hint of merriment dancing through her tear-filled eyes. He smiled at being the source of her mirth, however fleeting, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"But I can tell you this." Kelly glanced upward expectantly. Spike sighed and pulled back slightly, a contemplative look on his face. "Since we talked the other day, ‘ve been thinking."

"A dangerous pastime," she couldn’t help but quip.

"I know." He smirked. They had both been subjected to that bloody flick one time too many. It was a hazard of having a youngster to entertain. The lightheartedness didn’t last. It couldn’t. The subject matter was too touchy. "And it’s been rough. Thinking ’bout things that I can’t change. Y’said I’d make a good father. That’s something I told myself I never wanted. Ever. As much as I love Rosie, I can’t deny that I’m happy when I get alone time with my lady. But I think that can be said for every male…everywhere. I know Zack loves Rosie. He’s nuts about her! I’ve never seen a bloke lose it over a kid like he—"

Kelly’s eyes narrowed. He snickered but caved.

"All right. Like we did. Can’t rightly help myself, can I? But he’s her pap. You two have something beautiful—you made something beautiful. Something I…" He trailed off emotionally, a long, struggling sigh coursing through his body. "Something I can’t give Buffy. Something I could never give her…even if she haden’t gone out and gotten herself vamped. And though she says differently, and I mostly believe her, I gotta say that it has to matter on a level. It bloody has to. And cor, it kills me that I can’t give her that. So much that I can’t bloody well understand what right your husband would have to react to your news with anything but sublime happiness. The thought that he would resent it’s enough to brass me off. After all the death you two face every day just by living on the Hellmouth, creating life is a call for celebration. The fact that you two can create life’s the same. If anything, you owe it to me. He bloody well owes it to me. You two owe it to me to have this kid. To do something that I can’t. Do you get me?"

By the time that Kelly realized his impromptu tirade was over, she was so overwhelmed with emotion that she could do nothing but nod through her tears. She could tell that her hormonal imbalance was going to wind up killing her if Spike kept surprising her like this. The sincerity in his words accompanied by the raw emotion of his regret was enough to do anyone in. There was nothing she could say to display her gratitude, so she offered him what she could of a hug as he attempted to coax her down.

"Our better halves are gonna think ‘ve been beating you or something," he kidded with a smile, reaching over to hand her a tissue. "Well, my better half. Gotta say the superior of the Morris clan is sitting right here." He glanced fondly to the slumbering child. "Both of ‘em."

Kelly smiled weakly and reigned control over herself, dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose. "They’ll be out for a while yet. You’ve been with Zack to video stores. He takes forever and a day."

There was no contesting with that bit of universal knowledge. "That he does." Spike cast another thoughtful eye to the sleeping Rosie. He swore that she could snooze her way through anything. Perhaps she was simply adjusted to her mother’s emotional outbursts. However, the fact that they had not jarred Spawn was beyond his comprehension, though he would not question their extreme fortune.

"Gotta say," he mused a minute later, "I’m kinda worried ‘bout how Bitty will take this new information. She’ll likely be ecstatic at first, but another child complicates things."

"I know," Kelly agreed, tossing her tissue into the trashcan. "I come from an outrageously large family."

"I was the younger," he told her. "My older sis, Emma…she wasn’t too happy with me. Always said I stole her bloody thunder. Like it was my fault for being all born." He drifted for a thoughtful minute, a small, poignant smile on his face. "I miss her at times."

"I didn’t know you had siblings."

"’S not something I talk ‘bout a lot." Spike shrugged, lighting the cigarette he had retrieved when Zack first burst into the room. "After a century, I wager it’s time to not dwell in the past. I’m told she lived her life through…unlike Mum. Emma was off and hitched before I was sired. Never told anyone but Buffy and you…" He digressed when he saw her astonished look and shrugged once more. "Like I said, it’s not something I like to dwell in. Had to beat Angelus back from offing half of my family back in the day. Not to mention Dru and Darla...they were sadistic like that."

Kelly was still staring at him in shocked wonder. It was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Well, don’t make a big thing outta it," he snipped, perhaps a bit too defensively. "Peaches was the type to kill anyone’s family. Hell, he’d already murdered his own. It’s how he earned his nickname, did you know? His little sis was so happy to see him that she thought he’d returned to her as a bloody angel. Prat went from Liam to Angelus in one night."

The astonishment had not alleviated. He was beginning to question the wisdom of opening his yap at all when he found himself caught in a massive bear hug that nearly sent them both toppling to the ground.

"Air!" he gasped inanely.

She snickered and pinched his sides. "Very funny."

Spike smirked and took a step back. "Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?"

"You. For being so…you."

"That’s a little ambiguous, pet."

Kelly sighed, but she was smiling. It was good to see a smile, even with cheeks still rutted with drying tears. "You help me more than you can know," she explained. "What you said to me the other day…that entire…that was more than I could…and now. You’re so good to Rosie and she loves you so much and you make all my insecurities seem…and to top it all off, you’re a vampire! And you’re not like them. Like Angelus. I rather doubt—hell I know the last thing he would do is play nice with my children and open up to me and—"

"I bloody well did not open up."

She favored him with a narrowed glance. He sighed his defeat.

"All right, so I did. Don’t get all excited." There was a pause, and he winked conspiratorially. "And don’t tell Buffy. Little minx’d probably get so adorably jealous, I’d have to do something that I’m not gonna share. It’s between us."


	6. Chapter 6

"Do you ever get jealous?" Zack asked as he and Buffy patrolled the aisles of the third video thrift store they had visited. For whatever reason, ‘White Christmas’ was outlandishly difficult to locate. Every manager directed them to another dead-end when asked, and they didn’t trust the cabbie enough not to drive off should they decide to familiarize themselves with the local Wal-Mart. It was too easy to get lost in there.

"Jealous?" Buffy echoed, thumbing through the selections with a continual basis of no luck. "Of…?"

"Spike and the general flirtyness of him."

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Spike…flirts? With other women? With women who aren’t me?! Okay. That’s it. He’s so dust."

Zack had a mortified look on his face, and he was unable to do anything but stare at her in astonished horror. "Oh God," he said. "I didn’t…when I said flirtyness, I meant—"

The Slayer chuckled and relieved him of all superfluous tension. "Relax," she reassured him. "I know my hubby’s a flirt. It’s kinda in his nature. He can’t help it. But no, it doesn’t bother me."

"Why?"

"Because I know he loves me. Because I see the side of him that no one else does." She entertained a small, private smile as her eyes brightened in secret delight. "And because he’s Spike. He’s different from the others. He’s not Riley, who left me because I couldn’t always express how I felt. And he’s definitely not Angel, who I constantly worried about. And constant as in always. I never trusted Angel like I trust Spike. Never. I never trusted him to not hurt me, and I think that’s why he did. I mean, he didn’t mean to, but I gave him that much power."

"And you haven’t given Spike that much power?"

"It’s not that," she immediately reimbursed. "Spike could tear my heart out if he wanted to…both in the figurative and literal sense…but I know he won’t. I’ve seen what my pain does to him, and he won’t."

"Besides," Zack added with a smirk. "Angel’s lame. His hair sticks straight up and he’s bloody stupid."

Buffy groaned, but there was a smile on her face. "God, I can’t believe he actually programmed the bot to say that."

"I’m sure you’ve thought it once or twice."

"Have not! Angel is—was—always a friend…well, no he wasn’t. But I wouldn’t think that!"

"Suuuure…" Zack, on the other hand, knew quite differently. Spike had related one night at Willy’s—mood much too bouncy to be of the regular hyperactive attention-deficit-disorder—that he and Buffy’s most recent round of sexcapades had resulted in her confession of everything she found more appealing about him over Angel. The bot’s choice of phrase had surfaced more than once.

But she didn’t need to know that.

"So you don’t worry about him hurting you," he continued when her withering look failed to take the hint. "And the unexpressyness?"

Buffy’s expression remained resolved, but she decided to continue with the explanation anyway. "Well, as far as the unexpressyness…he fought so hard to get where we are. He fought harder than I could… He’s seen me at my best and my worst and he’s…he’s still here. So I don’t worry about another Riley-bailing-incident." She sighed. "I give Spike more than I gave Riley. We actually have a relationship without the badness, and without hurting each other at every turn."

"Kinda funny considering the I’mortal enemies’ thing."

"Yeah. Irony, how I mock thee." They shared a laugh. "So no, to get back to the point, it doesn’t bother me." There was a thoughtful pause. "And it shouldn’t bother you."

"What? You think Spike’s flirting bothers me?"

"Huh? Gross, and no. I meant Kelly. I know she’s been hanging with him a lot recently, but it really shouldn’t bother you."

"Oh, I’m not worried about that." Zack’s eyes widened comically. "God, it’s hard enough to get Spike to admit when other women are pretty. You’ve effectively ruined him for anyone who is not Buffy Summers."

The remark earned a grin. "Good."

He returned the smile with his patented favor that he flashed to all girls, regardless of intention, or even awareness. "My jealousy is more…I think she’s telling him things, and withholding the same from me. Things that I should know."

"Like that?"

"Like…I dunno. I don’t exactly have any examples handy. But when I went back for the money and keys, she was all weepy-confession-looking and he was all indifferent—okay, so that’s not new." Zack exhaled sharply. "I just…she’s my wife, you know? She should be confiding in me. Not him."

"Are you sure she’s not doing girl-talk?"

"With Spike?"

"He claims to hate it and all things estrogen-related, but he’s indulged Dawn way too many times to discount that theory."

There was a thoughtful moment, but Zack shook his head after considering. "No," he decided. "I’ve heard Kelly do girl-talk enough to know that she never has cry-face over what she talks about with her female friends. I just…I don’t know why they’d keep it from me."

"They? There’s a ‘they’ now?"

"Well, yeah. Both of them. She’s my wife; he’s my best pal. Confiding is sort of in the constitution of those bonds." He paused for a minute. "Do you honestly think that Spike keeps anything from you?"

"No," Buffy answered immediately. "But our relationship is different from yours."

"That’s bullshit. We—"

"You two were together in high school. You’ve only gone once or twice without actually being together." Zack shut up at this indisputable fact. There was nothing to say in contest. "And, as you so astutely observed not five minutes ago, Spike and I were made to be mortal enemies. Trust me, our relationship is a lot different from yours."

"So I shouldn’t be upset that two people who were supposed to be mortal enemies keep nothing from each other when I can’t get my own wife to tell me what’s wrong?" He shook his head determinately. "And it’s not just what happened tonight. The day that she went out with him, she was distant and evasive. Like she had already spilled everything she was gonna spill, and it sucks to be me that I wasn’t present when she let it all out. Are you telling me that it’s okay?"

"Zack, the reason Spike and I don’t keep secrets is because we can’t afford to." Buffy’s voice was becoming more clipped as her patience ebbed to the breaking point. "It has nothing to do with trust, because I trust him with my life, and more importantly, not to break my heart. We can’t afford secrets because of who we are. Vampire and Slayer, regardless of my liquid diet. It’s something you can’t even begin to understand. Before we actually had a relationship, we had to sit down and work everything out. We’ve already had every talk you can imagine. We—"

"Seems as I recall, you got married while nearly being trampled to death from a tent revival gone horribly wrong."

"That was hardly the beginning of our relationship."

"Your indifference to him prior to that would suggest otherwise."

"I wasn’t indifferent. I was going through stuff. We both were. But I did love him, and he knew it, despite whatever was said." She was getting into glare-mode. This was something that all mammals tried to avoid. "And thanks for bringing up the night that everyone wants to forget as though some sort of sense can be made of anything we did, besides get married!"

Several heads perked up as her tone rose. Zack laughed nervously and steered her into a corner. Once he was guaranteed of their momentary privacy, he snapped back to attention. "Look, I didn’t mean to—"

"I know you’re upset, okay? I get it. But did it ever occur to you that there are some things that Kelly thinks you wouldn’t be able to handle?" The notion was preposterous, and his outraged expression clearly stated as much. Buffy was talking again before he could say what he thought about that idea. "Think about it. The reason you’re feeling this way is because of her behavior since Slater came back. Do you really think that she’s ready to sit down and have a nice, long chat about something that could have potentially ruined your relationship?"

"Well, I’d like to think that because of that, we wouldn’t keep things from each other."

"Kelly loves you too much to risk it. I know that. She’s told me." His eyes widened at the thought of there being more than one person that knew the intimacies of his wife’s insecurity, but she waved him down the next minute. "Not about that. But she’s not ready to open up those wounds. And I honestly think that had that never happened, and things still miraculously turned out the way they did, you wouldn’t be worried. I think there’s a part of you that has yet to get over it and forgive her…and you’re worried that it could happen again…despite how much you claim not to."

Zack sighed in defeat and closed his eyes. "Can you really blame me?" he asked softly. "Buffy, she’s not talking to me about things that matter. She’s not talking to me, but she is talking to my best friend. This is spelling déjà vu in the worst of ways."

"But we’ve already established that Spike wouldn’t—"

"I know Spike wouldn’t. It’s not a question of that. At all. He looks at you, and you’re his everything." Buffy smiled a bit at the poetry in his words, touched but knowing not to dwell. This wasn’t about her. "But Kelly…just because…god, tell me why I shouldn’t be worried? Give me one good reason."

Well, that was easy.

"Because you’re her everything. You and Rosie. She loves you. And that’s probably the reason she’s talking to Spike…because she loves you." The Slayer delicately plucked ‘White Christmas’ from a selection of secondhand videos. "And in a very macho, brotherly, heterosexual way, Spike loves you, too. He’d never admit to anyone—me included—but it’s kinda there. If they’re talking about you or her problems, it’s because they want to work for you, not against you. They have your best in mind." She made a move to the cash register, motioning for him to follow. "That’s the sort of people they are."

Zack stood grounded for a minute, letting her words sink in. There was truth there. Truth that he had no right to dispute, much less challenge. With a poignant, guilty sigh, he turned his head to follow.

"Well," he murmured with humorless irony. "It’s not good, but it’s a reason."

*~*~*

By the time they got back to the hotel, Kelly was all but bald from panic.

"What on earth took you guys so long?!" she demanded as Zack held the door open for Buffy. Spike remained where he was when they left—outstretched on the bed, eyes closed but very much awake. He shifted and lifted his arms to accommodate his wife’s sudden presence.

"We got held up," the Slayer explained, snuggling into her husband’s proffered embrace. "Would you believe that only one store had ‘White Christmas’? We took so long in the last place that the cabbie got brassed and decided to leave."

Spike smiled at her casual manipulation of British slang. It was absolutely adorable coming from an unaccented mouth, and he thought to tell her so by gracing the back of her neck with a light kiss. "Should’ve just gone to Wally-World," he rationalized.

"Honey, you know that place is run by the greatest evil imaginable."

"Hell-gods?" Zack ventured.

"Worse," Buffy corrected. "Capitalist business tycoons."

Spike shuddered behind her. "A whole bloody picking of blokes that walk and talk an’—most frighteningly—think like one Anya Jenkins."

That was it. The entire room shuddered—even the children.

"Well, whaddya say we give this thing a once-over," Zack said, moving to pop the video into the VCR that Spike had acquired after his heart-to-heart with Kelly. No one really wanted to think of how, thus no one asked. Even Kelly, whom had been there the entire time, hadn’t the faintest idea. She had heard him leave while fixing the cry-face dilemma in the bathroom, and when she emerged, a VCR was suddenly added to the room.

Buffy snatched the remote from Zack and started fast-forwarding to the scene they had purchased the move for. Spike lay curled behind her on his side, absently caressing the small of her back. "If this is anything like I remember," he said. "You’re gonna bloody hate it, Zangy."

"You’ve seen this movie before?" Kelly asked, astonished.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Do the lot of you make a conscious effort to forget that I’m older than everyone in this room put together?"

The Slayer turned to him with a small smile and placed a tender, though teasing kiss on his lips. "We don’t have to make the effort, sweetie," she said. "It’s not like you act your age."

He purred sensually, waggling his eyebrows and doing that thing with his tongue that would make her flush if she could. "’S not like you’d want me to, pet."

"Children!" Kelly whispered furiously, blushing for everything Buffy could not. It was different with them than watching Angelus and Clarice interact for reasons that no one could distinguish with ease. Likely because there was actual feeling beyond the physical, and knowing such could make anyone fluster. "Remember that there are children in the room! No sexcapades!"

Spike sulked with a glowering pout. Then his eyes lit up mischievously. "Well," he speculated. "I wager if the situation gets to…certain measures…we can always go elsewhere. Seems like I recall this broom closet—"

"Oh, here it is!" Buffy said as the tape came to sudden halt. The room grew silent as Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby performed their number, eyes growing wide at the variety of choreography. By the time Bing was done explaining why they shouldn’t feel bad about a doctor who got eaten by a whale, it was all the women could do from bursting into hysterics.

Zack was not as amused. He stared stonily at the television with a look of the utmost defiance. "I. Am. Not. Doing. This," he decided.

"Oh, lighten up," Spike replied, oddly jovial. "’S not like it’s the end of the world."

"The end of the world would be preferable. I’d at least know how to prevent it." His eyes narrowed. "And furthermore, Big Bad, why aren’t you joining the Not Doing This club?"

"Like I said, it doesn’t bother me. I remember when this music was popular. Always figured it to be a little cheery for my taste, and yeah, a little wankerish. We’d look like a couple of bloody poofters, but…" He paused, the indifference in his gaze melting into a frown. "Sod it. That sounds pretty convincing. We’re not doing this."

"Thank you!"

"Oh, yes you are!" Buffy and Kelly cried in unison.

Spike perked a brow. "And why is that?"

The Slayer spared him a glance over her shoulder and leaned inward to whisper something.

"Goddammit!" Zack cried. "Spike, whatever she’s saying, resist it. It’s the Dark Side. It’s evil. It’s—"

"Pretty convincing, if you ask me," the vampire decided, reverting back to form. He favored his wife with a kiss and a conspiratorial wink. "’Sides, lest you forget, never tempt evil with evil…mate."

Zack cast his eyes heavenwards. "Help me."

"Hate to break it to you, Zangy, but you’re pretty much doomed." Spike chuckled at the look on his friend’s face before glancing back to the screen. His eyes widened. "Slayer, I’ve been inspired."

"Oh no."

"You’re dancing to the I’mandy’ bit of this number."

"I so am not."

"Yeah, Buf," Zack agreed, grinning evilly. "It’s only fair."

"But Kelly doesn’t have to do anything!"

"That’s right," the other woman said, scooting away from the conspiring maniacs. "Kelly does not have to do anything."

Spike met her eyes with foreknowledge of her condition—nodding in a manner that told plainly he would have made her participate in some fashion were it not for other pressing matters. "Kelly doesn’t have the body for it," he said.

"Hey!" the Morrises protested. Buffy thwapped him.

"Bugger you sods, y’know what I meant. She’s bleeding perfect the way she is, but only a few can move like that." He indicated the screen while sneaking a hand to pinch his wife’s ass teasingly. "Being a Slayer just gives my lady a certain…advantage."

"Shut up."

"Come on, love. You’ve got all these luscious…curves."

What ensued had the concerned parents fighting to tear the pair apart—amazingly not for sexcapades. Spike had straddled Buffy’s waist and was tickling her mercilessly, laughing as he attempted to wan off her counterattack. When he realized that continuing meant potentially disturbing the children, he immediately backed off, offered his wife a hand, and had her slung over his shoulder before she could think to protest.

"We’ll be back in a minute," he told the couple. "Going to go find a broom closet."

The happy couple didn’t come back from their little adventure until 1:30 in the morning. When they did, Zack was sprawled out asleep on the bed and Kelly was scurrying around the room making sure everyone’s bags were ready to go. She looked up just long enough to give the couple a smirk before going back to making sure that Spike’s suitcase was fastened.

"I hope you found the broom closet," Kelly said. "Because the children are awake now and no more…tension allowed."

"Don’t worry," Spike said nudging his wife slightly. "That’s taken cared of."

"Children," Kelly hissed, pointed to the children who were watching the ending to White Christmas.

Rosie looked up at her aunt and uncle as they came in the door. "Were you two patrolling?"

"Ummm… we sure were," Buffy said unconvincingly.

"I didn’t know there was bad demons here," Rosie said in a panic looking toward the window.

"Don’t you worry little lady," Spike said coming over and scooping her up off the sofa. "Uncle Big Bad took care if all ’em pesky sods. No demons gonna ’urt you on my patrol."

Rosie reached up and gave him a kiss right on the nose. "Good," she giggled before squirming down and turning her attention back to the TV.

Buffy groaned as she flopped down on the empty bed. "We aren’t going to get any sleep are we?" Before her question could be confirmed, she continued on. " I can’t believe I did that. I should have been here trying to rest."

"That wasn’t what you were saying twenty minutes ago," Spike replied without a ounce of shame.

"Spike," Buffy growled as she chucked a pillow at her husband’s head. He caught it before it could have any affect and tossed it down on the sofa.

Kelly smiled before going into the bathroom to finish her freshing up. As soon as she locked the door, Rosie called, "Momma. The movie is all done."

"OK sweetie," Kelly said through the door. "Give me a minute and I’ll shut it off.

Zack groaned as the noise woke him from his brief period of sleep. He reached over for his wife, but quickly found that he was alone.

"Do you not think that we can turn off a VCR?" Buffy inquired. She was already up and rewinding the tape.

"Oh, sorry," Kelly apologized.

"Well apologize to me," Zack grumbled. "You woke me up."

"Oh, well let’s bloody cry ‘bout it," Spike mocked. "Some of us are getting no sleep at all."

Zack got up rubbing his eyes and retorted, "Well, I didn’t know I was rooming with a regiment of Sleep-Nazis or I would have done my lounging in the bathroom."

"Cute," Kelly said coming out of the bathroom and tossing Zack his toothbrush. "I was about to wake you anyway. We should be getting there in less than an hour."

"Momma!" Rosie cried. "Stephen pressed buttons on the VCR!" Sure enough, Stephen had decided to take the video out. Since they were under five, Kelly discouraged the children playing with anything electronic device that had more buttons than they had years. Luckily, Stephen didn’t break the tape or the VCR.

Kelly was on the urge of berating him, but the newscast that was airing distracted her thoughts. "In other news this evening," the anchor said in his professional happy voice. "Footage is being shown of a man who walked in to the Wal-Mart on 54th Avenue. The man, who police are currently looking for in pertinence to a crime committed earlier this evening." Footage now went onto the screen showing a man walk straight into the store. Then it flashed to the same character walking into the electronics section where he proceeded to steal a display VCR and walk out of the store. "When store officials attempted to question the man, as one witness put it, his exact words were ‘Sod off.’ Police officials are asking anyone who knows about this man in his early to mid-twenties to call the number at the bottom of the screen. Also tonight, a monkey was found at a dentist’s office. Details after commercial."

As the news went to break, Spike walked over and promptly shut the television off. He nervously laughed when he saw all eyes on him. "Irony’s a bitch," he said pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "Some bloke stole a telly. Just when we were watching one."

"VCR," Buffy dryly corrected.

"Oh, didn’t pay that much attention."

"Look," Kelly reasoned. "We know its you. We all saw the tape."

"There could be a billion blokes out there with my taste in fashion," the platinum vampire defended.

"You told the people to sod off," Zack pointed out. "And, hello! We could all point you out on that tape. Nobody can actually pull off the Billy Idol-in-a-duster look like you can."

"Really?" Spike asked enthusiastically before catching himself and scoffing. "I’m not like Billy Idol. E’s like me. But I did look good there, ding I?"

"So that’s where you went," Kelly said. "I wondered where you got that thing from."

"They won’t miss it. Probably won’t remember in the morning. ‘Sides, it was fun."

"Oh well," Zack decided. "It’s not like we can really take it back and say, ‘Sorry. Just thought we would borrow it for a couple hours. Hope you don’t mind.’ Besides, we were just saying that all Wally World is is a bunch of prats."

"OK, Mr. Bloody," Kelly said with a smile. "Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart is letting you off the hook. On one condition." When he looked at her with acknowledgement she continued. "You have to help get some snacks for the flight."

"Sounds fine by me. We best get going if we plan on making that bloody awful flight at that ungodly hour."

So the group of six was on their way. They had the car and their bags checked in within the hour. That it was done did not mean that it went off smoothly.

The car ride had been an adventure because they needed to stop somewhere to buy snacks for the flight. They contemplated stopping at a 7-Eleven right by the airport, but even Spike said wasn’t sure about the idea. The only other option was a Wal-Mart next to the airport.

"At least it’s not the one on 54th," Kelly offered as her husband pulled into the parking lot.

"Good God," Spike groaned. "Just put a stake in me."

"Don’t worry," Zack said. "You are not going in there. Just like a tangle with the pigs to make us late to the airport. Just stay in the car the kids."

"Oh joy," the male vampire replied sarcastically.

"Don’t worry," His wife comforted, leaning up to the front seat to give him a kiss. "I’ll get you favorite snackies and this place has a butcher shop inside. We’ll scrounge up something."

"Nothing like some nummy Wally World blood."

"Beggars can’t be choosers," Kelly said quoting the old saying.

"I’m not begging."

"Oh well," Zack said. "I am. Please stay in the car with the kids. I’ll buy you lots of nummy treats. And you’ll need Weetabix, huh?"

"Only ‘cause you claimed to beg," He grumbled folding his arms and pouting while staring out the windshield.

With that the adults vacated the car, leaving Spike as the baby-sitter. "Morning, Uncle Spike," Rosie said crawling into the front seat.

"Morning, Sweet Pea," he smiled back to the beaming little girl, losing all façade of a punishment.

"Are you excited? Momma said this plane is bigger and that we get to fly longer."

"Sure am."

"Momma also said that we’re going back to where you’re from. You were born in England like I was born in Sunnydale."

"Sad place you get to claim, but you’re right," Spike commented. He then gestured to the back seat and the dozing boy. "He hasn’t hurt you anymore?"

"No," she then leaned in close to his ear and whispered. "I think he’s scared of me." She giggled. "Cause I hurt him and made him cry."

"Good girl," he praised scooping her up into his arms. He planted a kiss in her hair, which caused her to snuggle close to his chest. He decided that he would test some waters and see what he found. "So, you like your mum and dad, don’t cha?"

The girl gave a quizzical look, but nodded just the same. Spike decided to continue. "And you like being part of your happy little family, true?" She again nodded. "Then have you ever thought ‘bout possibly having a sibling or two?"

"Can we go to Disney World?"

"Huh?" Spike said taken aback.

"Can we go to Disney World, now? Now, that you can go play in sunshine?"

"Hun, didn’t you hear my question?"

"Uh huh. Sometimes I want one. But I don’t want one now. I don’t like Stephen."

"They aren’t all like that little bugger. Trust me."

Rosie simply shrugged. She looked up at the pleading vampire and looked on the verge of saying something, but instead looked out the passenger window and shrieked. Spike turned and was also startled to see the masked face pressed up against the car window.

"Morris," Spike growled. He recognized the eyes immediately and the hearty laugh that accompanied.

"Sorry," Zack said still laughing as he pulled the mask from his face. Buffy and Kelly were following behind with a cart full of food and goodies. "I saw it and it reminded me of a Grober demon."

"And you wonder why the girl was scared?!" Spike snapped stroking the child’s hair. "Shame on you, Daddy," he scolded.

"Yeah," Rosie agreed, still a bit shaky. "Shame on you, Daddy."

"Okay…okay. I’m sorry," he apologized as he opened the car door and picked up his daughter. He gave her a big kiss before saying. "Daddy’s just a dummy." Rosie giggled and all was forgiven.

"Come on children," Kelly joked, ushering her husband toward the driver’s side of the car. "We need to get to the airport."

They drove to the airport and turned the car in without further incident. Luckily, Wanda was off duty at the time. Next, they proceeded to the baggage counter. Spike had decided that he was going to bring his new toy with him and also decided to carry it under his arm all throughout the airport.

"Sir," the man working the counter said when Spike’s turn came up. He had simply plopped the VCR down on the counter. "We can’t just put that exposed equipment down in our cargo hold."

"Kel," Spike called her name in search of advice.

"Sorry, dear," Kelly replied. "There isn’t any room in the suitcases."

The man shed a look of relief when after a moment of Spike’s angry pouting, he picked up the VCR in what seemed an attempt to give up and walk away. Spike did no such thing though, but instead set the VCR on the counter again. He then said, "I wanna check in a carry on."

"Sir?" the man questioned.

"Are yeah deaf?" the brassed off vampire snapped. "Wanna check in my carry on."

The guy could see that Spike wasn’t playing games, so he took the baggage sticker and stuck it right on top of the VCR. "There you go," the boy said timidly and on the verge of tears.

Spike walked off humming with smug satisfaction.

By the time that they actually boarded the plane, everyone was tired of Stephen. He had run off from Kelly when she was calling Giles to inform them their flight number when he bit the hand that she was using to hold his. She screamed, more from sheer pain than anything, but it alerted the other three of the situation. It had a taken fifteen minutes between Zack, a vampire and a Slayer, to find the child and restrain him from any further fleeing.

The most unfortunate development was realized as they boarded the plane. They recognized both the pilot and the stewardess as those that worked their previous flight. Even Rosie had to apologize as they made their way to their seats.

The flight was long and grueling, but nothing out of the ordinary took place. The only incident worth noting was when Spike looked over to see Zack listening to his headphones. Spike was amused to see that Zack had his eyes closed and seemed to be reeling in the music in his ears. Intrigued, he leaned over pulled out one of the earpieces to place in his own ear. The platinum vampire expected by the way Zack was getting into the music, to hear one of their favorite rock groups or even a pop or oldie song that was decent. The last thing he expected was to hear "Lord help the mister, who comes between me and my sister. And Lord help the sister, who comes between me and my man!"

"Zangy?" Spike said with a smirk as he busted his friend in his act of strangeness.

Zack looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to find any words to say.

"Just gimme a good reason," Spike pleaded. "Please. There’s gotta be a good reason."

"Well…I…"

"No. No stuttering. Just gimme a good reason or something. No questions asked."

"White Christmas," Zack said in a barely audible whisper.

"So, you mean you were thinking ‘bout material for the performance?"

"Well…Bing Crosby is pretty cool. Why can’t I be Bing?"

"Good God," Spike groaned. "What have they done to you? What did those women and that movie do to my Zangy?"

"If it’s any consolation I just bought it back at the Wal-Mart," Zack offered.

"So you’ve only been a poof in the making all this time, not in actuality?"

"Oh please," Zack scoffed. "Who’s the man who schedules his whole day around getting in his episode of Passions?"

"’Ey there buddy. That someone’s best friend is in the other room watching General Hospital."

"Well…" Zack searched for a better comeback, but really couldn’t think of one. "Are you going to tell them?" He gestured to the rest of their traveling companions.

"Nah." Spike gave Zack a pat on the back. He then added, "One condition."

"Anything."

"I’m borrowing it when you’re done."

Zack offered him a knowing smirk and nodded his compliance, settling once more against the less-than-comfortable airplane seating and closing his eyes in oddly complacent satisfaction. After ten minutes, Spike realized that the disc was still in the first half of its rotation and he had a while to wait before his turn came up. Boredom inevitably ensued; Rosie had fallen asleep and thus couldn’t keep him entertained, and Kelly was so busy keeping Stephen from attacking the flight attendants that he didn’t dare interrupt. Though she was a friend, he had to comply with the side of indifference where the Spawn was subject to matter. He was almost afraid his control would ebb to the breaking point and he would do something to later regret—if not for the action itself, then for the negative impact it would inevitably have on his personal relationships. Chip be damned—that little bugger was in for a massive walloping someday, even if he couldn’t be the one to personally give it to him.

Therefore, with his friends preoccupied and his source of entertainment dozing adorably in her seat, Spike struck a wicked grin and turned to the Slayer, who was attempting to catch a few winks in light of their restless night.

"Buffy?"

Nothing.

"Kitten?"

Nothing.

Spike sighed and leaned back. God, she sleeps like the dead. He grimaced at his thought and internally thwapped himself. There were times when he thought her suggestion of a bad-pun alarm to be the most brilliant thing in creation.

Another sigh coursed through his body as he regarded her. She wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

Unless…

It only took a few minutes. Spike offered her a wickedly winning grin as her eyes batted to alertness and she bolted upright when she realized where his hand was. Then, very expectedly, she whacked him. "Spike!"

"Morning."

"Trying to sleep!"

"Noticed. But I’m so dreadfully bored…" He leaned inward to nibble at her ear. "Wanna make it better?"

"Not particularly," she snickered, knowing full well that he would ignore her.

He snickered right back, knowing full well that she would take that rout but plowing right through it anyway. "Got an idea. Wanna join the mile high club?"

Buffy’s eyes widened. "What? Why? How? Why aren’t you sleeping? We were up all night!"

Spike favored her with a lustful leer. "Well, I certainly was."

She gave him that look that clearly told him that she would be flushing had she the networking for it. Then she thwapped him again. "I’m tired!" she complained.

The attentions to her ear had not ceased, nor had what he was doing beneath the blanket in her lap. "I can fix that."

"And I’ve had my fill of cramped areas."

Another lavish smirk, accompanied this time with the familiar eyebrow waggling. "Girl like you gets easily spoiled, y’know that? I know we need our space, pet, but y’gotta make due with what you’re offered."

"Well, I’m not offering you anything!"

Spike pulled back, ceasing his attentions and earning a mild gasp of complaint for his effort. He pouted at her. "Why not?"

"Because we’re in a public place!"

Another snicker and a dutiful arching of the eyebrows. "Right. Like that’s stopped you before."

"Name one—"

"One? How ‘bout twenty? The Bronze, the mall, that furniture store, that ice-cream parlor in the middle of town, the—"

Buffy flustered even more and clamped her hand over his mouth. "Shut up."

He licked at her skin to get her to release him. The look he received was met with a simple shrug. "Just telling the truth, pet. You did ask."

"God. You’re a sodomist, you know?"

A look of horror flashed across his face. "I bloody well am not! You won’t let me, and I’m not even gonna start in on the double-meaning of that rightly unfair accusation. I’m not a bloody poof! As I’ve demonstrated many, many times."

"Hey, I just call ‘em like I see ‘em."

"Bollocks. Do you even know what that word means?"

Buffy raised her chin in moral defiance even as her eyes answered for her. "Yes!"

"All right, Ms. Smarty-Seductive-Mini-Skirt, what?"

There was a long moment of silence; whether induced by his demand or the extension of an otherwise simple moniker, neither could say. "You’re an exhibitionist!"

Spike grinned at his small victory, but for once let the insinuation that he was right and she was wrong slide without consequence. She was so cute when she was flustered. "Yeah? Well, you’re a necrophiliac."

"So are you!"

"Never claimed not to be."

"Isn’t there some kind of anti-Viagra? If so, why aren’t you on it?"

He looked at her skeptically. "’Cause you’d complain. Seems you’d be doing yourself a right injustice."

"Oh please."

"Stubborn bint."

"Peroxided moron."

"Bitch."

"Ass."

"Wench."

"Pig."

"Trollop."

"Prick."

"Brazen little hussy."

"Delinquent."

"Strumpet."

"Strump-what? I mean, jerk!"

Spike grinned. He always claimed victory when he started throwing the lesser-known British slang in her direction, but he knew well only one accusation could end this dispute. "Cocktease."

"Am not!"

"Prove it."

"Won’t!"

He sniffed the air casually and offered her another leer. "Come on, love. You’re wide-awake now. Come into the back with me."

"I bloody well will not!"

The platinum vampire was taken aback by her brazen brandishing of his own Cockney. It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to snap like that, and the incident only served to heighten his conviction. However, before he could snap his witty rejoinder, Zack nudged him from the other side and passed off the CD player with a tired yawn. "There. All yours, buddy."

Spike stared at the unexpected package in his lap for a few blank seconds before he recalled voicing the request in the first place. At that, he flashed a terribly grateful look to his friend and nestled contentedly, placing the headphones over his ears and allowing his eyes to fall shut.

As predicted, it took all of seven seconds for Buffy to realize what had happened and nudge him irritably. He feigned the most annoyed look in the world and glanced to her speculatively. "What is it, love?"

"I thought we were going to…" She jerked her head explicitly several times toward the back, ignoring the smirk that beleaguered Zack’s eyes. There was no doubt that he had caught every word of their conversation, music or not, and this unexpected turn was a ploy to benefit his buddy’s chances at joining the coveted ‘club’ on this particular flight.

"Yeah," Spike replied disinterestedly, settling further into his seat. "Changed my mind. Was right rude of me to disturb your sleep like that. After all, you had a long, hard night." He granted a condescending wink and made himself even more comfortable. "You really should get your rest, kitten. Being dead’s no excuse to form bad habits." He spoke articulately and deliberately—straight-faced—pointedly ignoring the pack of cigarettes perched in the inner lapels of his duster.

Buffy stared at him for a few delayed, disbelieving minutes before grumbling and edging herself to the far end of her seat. Spike knew she wouldn’t cave—oh no, the Slayer was too stubborn for that—and while he might have lamented not getting one quick fix on the flight, he was almost more pleased with the thrill of irritating her. Their relationship was constantly offering a series of highs and lows and new venues to explore, and he loved each as much as the last.

Besides, getting her worked up now would simply mean reaping the benefits later.

A few minutes passed before Zack ventured to lean inward, smirk taut on his lips. Spike snickered and withdrew the headphones from his ears in time to hear the small, "And they say romance is dead," accusation.

The vampire chuckled and tossed a long glance to his dozing lady. "Maybe they just wish it."

"You do know that you’re evil, right?"

"That being the material point, I’d certainly hope so." Spike grinned. "But I gotta admit, of all the fun I’ve had as of the recent, that definitely took the cake."

"Even more so than the broom closet?" Zack ventured to ask.

Spike offered a condescending sneer. "Except the broom closet."


	7. Chapter 7

By some small twist of fate, the landing went as smoothly as anyone could begin to hope. Stephen remained asleep for the majority of the flight, and while he made a conscious effort to disturb the flight attendants as much as possible to compensate for lost time, the Morrises managed to fight him to baggage claim in record time.

Spike handed Buffy her suitcase as it rolled through, smirking at the more than tussled image she portrayed. "Whatsa matter, love?" he drawled. "Did you not sleep well?"

She offered a dirty scowl that was immediately discounted for the subsequent immature poking her tongue at him. "Go to Hell."

"Please," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "That’s so Angel."

"Very funny."

"I thought so," Zack agreed cheerily. While he hadn’t been an active part of the Scoobies’ lives during the Buffy/Angel saga, Spike had done more than his share of fill him in on everything missed in those first pivotal years. "And I thought that we agreed earlier that Angel is lame."

"Angel is gone," she reminded him grumpily. "We’re stuck with the evil twin."

"Yeah, well…" Spike draped an arm over his lady’s shoulder, grinning as Rosie smiled at him in the midst of her slow wake. "Y’gotta admit…Angelus might be a wanker, but at leas’ he has some personality."

"You mean when he’s not sticking it to Clarice," Zack pointed out.

"Oi there, Zangy! The younglings are beginning to stir. Don’t wanna fill their heads with little nasty jabs like that, do yeah?" Spike ignored the twin scowls that his friend and his wife mirrored against him and drew in an appreciative huff of the airport atmosphere. "Mmmm…yeah. Smells like home."

"You know what London smells like?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. Just like I know what good ole SunnyD smells like."

"Oh?" she asked expectantly.

Spike gave her a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. "You. And the occasional Musk of Peaches when he isn’t stinking up our living room. I never thought I’d meet a pair of vamps that need more romping room than we do."

"Uncle Spike!" Rosie exclaimed giddily, motioning for him to pick her up. He immediately reverted to his more parental modus operandi and obliged the child, dropping all pretense of whatever he was attempting to rouse from his wife. "Welcome home!"

He favored her with a dimpled grin. "Y’can’t welcome me home, poodle," he scoffed as though it were a great inconvenience. "Firstly, you’re just arriving yourself." He tickled her sides and earned a delighted giggle in reward. "And second, London maybe where I’m from, but it’s far from home."

"Where’s home then?" she wondered.

The vampire replied by gracing her cheek with a kiss. "Wherever you are. Well, you and Auntie Buffy, if y’gotta know." His voice lowered as he neared her ear. "’Had to add that last part. Y’know how green she turns when I start playing favorites with my best girls."

Rosie giggled again. "Am I your best girl, Uncle Spike?"

"The very, very best, Bit."

Something tugged at his pant legs before the child could respond. "Uncle Spike!"

Zack rolled his eyes and lifted Stephen off the ground, tucking the rambunctious kid under his arm. "No more delays," he scowled. "Come on. We gotta find Ferris. I think his flight-time was even more ridiculous than ours. He’s probably lounging in the bar somewhere."

"Ah, there’s one joy if being in London," Spike said eagerly, plopping Rosie over his shoulders for an impromptu but very encouraged piggy-back-ride. "No more of that bloody awful American liquor. Zangy, I’ve been telling you all along that you’ve been deprived, and I rightly aim to show you just how while we’re here."

"Oh you do, do you?" Kelly asked with an arched brow.

Spike shot her a winning smile. "With the lady’s permission, of course."

Zack groaned. "Well, there you did it. You completely buggered my chances of—"

"Who says anything about being buggered?" Kelly asked innocently. "Well, in that sense, of course. I trust Spike is…capable of making sure you two don’t get in too much trouble while—"

Buffy was staring at her incredulously. "Are you very stoned? Both of them? Here? Drinking? I don’t think so."

Spike pouted with her. "But Buffy!"

"No."

The vampire sulked and glanced upward to Rosie. "Aunt Buffy’s being a bleeding dictator again. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was there to know how the real Gestapo actually worked."

"Aunt Buffy," the girl obligingly berated. "Stop being a bleeding dictator!"

The adults stared at her, then Spike with wonder. Zack started to laugh while the women compulsorily beat his arms for being such a blatantly negative influence.

"Come on," Zack said, ignoring the squirming child that was attempting to bite him through layers of over-drawn coats. "Let’s find Ferris. Then the Guru here can drive us to the hotel."

"Hotel?" Kelly questioned.

"Yeah, we gotta wait for Red," Spike replied. "Apparently, this Hogwarts place is bleeding hard to see if you’re a…what do they call ‘em? Scubbles?"

"Muggles," everyone automatically corrected.

"Right. Anyway, Red has to be here to work the mojo on us. They oughta be getting in tonight. Zangy and I decided to shack it up at a hotel for just a couple hours. We have to go over the gig and what all." He took a minute to smirk at Zack. "Figure out if your boy has all his lines down."

Kelly took the hint and offered a timely grin of agreement. "Now, Zack," she said. "How do you stop an angry dog from biting you on Monday?"

To everyone’s great surprise, he merely flashed a cocky smile and retorted, "That joke is old. The answer is to kill the dog on Sunday."

Spike grinned. Obviously, the womenfolk hadn’t seen what his buddy had smuggled on board for the flight. During their lapse of disbelief, he leapt in to complete the verse. "That’s not how you stop an angry dog from biting you on Monday," he informed him in the most serious tone he could muster.

"How would you bring the thing about?" Morris chimed back.

"’Ave the doggie’s teeth pulled out!"

The cry echoed far down the halls of the airport, causing many curious heads to stop and glance at them ponderously. Zack and Spike shared a long look, then melted simultaneously into chuckles.

"I still say I should get to be Bing," Zack declared once he had control of himself.

Spike snickered and shook his head, ignoring the accusatory looks coming from their wives in response to the most recent outburst. The call had been loud enough to prompt Stephen into another fit of hysteria, but neither man was paying attention; even the one that had the child trapped under his arm. "Too bloody bad," he retorted. "Seeing as you only recently saw the sodding flick, I get first dibs."

"In what country is that fair?"

"This one. I’ll take the matter to the Queen if I have to."

"Didn’t the Queen die?"

"Fine. ‘ll take it up with that poncy Charles bloke. Whoever. And word has it that ‘e’s not too fond of foreigners."

Rosie clapped her hands in conspiratorial delight. "Daddy and Uncle Spike are going to get into trouble!"

"You have no idea," Buffy murmured.

*~*~*

Through a network of mixed signals, Ferris had evidently gotten fed-up with waiting at the airport and had already made reservations at one of the hotels. When pressed on how it was that he got there, seeing as no one but Spike had the mechanics or the legalities, to drive in his country, he reassured them that he was perfectly capable of calling a cab. Even if he was in England.

The hotel itself, however, was far outside of London. In an effort to get as close to Hogwarts as possible without actually getting there, Ferris had called Willow in advance for a rough description of location. He was more than aware that the most popular method of travel involved a train station and a departure gate at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, but seeing as they were merely the entertainment for an evening’s festivities, the Hogwarts Express hardly seemed necessary. Willow was certain she could get them there on time without further delays, and didn’t want to mess with the train.

"I love the train," she had explained. "Don’t get me wrong. But I more than get my fill at the beginning and end of each school year."

Therefore, Spike was persuaded to rent a car as to avoid any mess with the local cab drivers. His papers and identification slips were still good for a few more years—(he always kept everything International updated, just like his American papers. One never knew when he might need to rely on foreign help to get him out of various sticky situations)—thus they suffered no impediment in acquiring a rental vehicle.

"Remember," he cautioned as everyone wedged into the car. "Don’t get too comfy when we stop. We’re not even unpacking, y’get me? it’s just until Red and the others get here."

Zack assumed the passenger side—something he found incredibly odd, seeing as it felt like he should be driving—and was consequentially handed a map of rural England. "I can get us there," Spike explained off his slightly petrified look. "But it helps to be prepared. Right?"

"Right," the women in the back agreed. The last thing they needed was further delays.

Surprisingly, the first half hour of driving went without calamity. This might have been due to Zack’s suggestion that they gag Stephen while the driver tried to navigate them through London traffic—an idea that passed only after Kelly’s inner Mrs. Goody Heart was satisfied that they would remove the bandana in question as soon as they were in the country. While the device hardly kept the overactive child from struggling and beating against the seats—despite how the Slayer attempted to hamper him—it did make for a smoother drive.

In fact, forty-five minutes passed without a sound at all. The Slayer was dozing again—having not been satisfied with the lack of sleep she received on the plane. Kelly was still jet-lagged from the flight, and Zack did not wish to disturb either one of them. However, the children had had more than their fair share of sleep and could not manage to keep quiet for the overly boring adults. It was Rosie who poked her head up and asked sweetly, "Uncle Spike?"

Spike’s eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, where only Kelly and the children reflected. It was amusing to see the image of his friend’s wife leaning on what appeared to be air. "What is it, poodle?"

"Sing us a song!"

The men shared a glance. Their songs weren’t exactly lullabies and were known for the occasional foul word. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

"How about Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?" Kelly suggested, coming awake at the sound of voices.

"Boring!" Rosie pouted. "Sing one of your songs!"

Spike looked mildly panicked. For weeks, they had discussed writing a few numbers that were more child-friendly, knowing how rapidly the girl grew tired of the same old, same old. However, with the impending performance, Slater’s mystical reappearance, and general procrastination, nothing had been accomplished.

"Whaddya think?" the vampire asked his band-mate. "Improvise?"

"You two better keep it PG," the Slayer warned, likewise coming out of her sleep. "At the worst."

"Improvise?" Zack echoed. "What?"

"Oh, come now. Y’can’t tell me that with all the stuff we write, one little improvisational number’s got you whacked."

"It’ll be just like Whose…" Buffy began to volunteer before she noted the customary widening of Kelly’s eyes. "Erm. That show where they improvise things."

The Cockney nodded. "We gotta appease the girl, Zangy. Just follow my lead."

"Your lead?"

"Well, yeah. I do sing lead. So bloody well follow it!"

"Are Uncle Spike and Daddy fighting?" Rosie asked Kelly timidly.

"No," the men up front said automatically. Zack turned over to gaze fondly at his daughter. "Just trying to decide what to sing for you. Uncle Spike’s about to begin. Aren’t you, Uncle Spike?"

"Right," the vampire agreed. "Right. here we go."

A few seconds of silence went by.

"Well?"

Spike cleared his throat, grimacing at the lyrics that came to mind. From the Big Bad to the performing monkey of a four-year old. Any crumb of a reputation he had left for himself was hereby forfeit for what he was about to do, and he honestly didn’t know what made it worse: knowing that he was a wanker, or knowing he wouldn’t change anything if granted the chance. "Okay. For real. _Moving right along in search of good times and good news. With good friends you can't lose."_

Zack all but burst out laughing, but managed to keep his cool long enough to add his line. _"This could become a habit."_

Bloody well better not, Spike thought, though the words that escaped his lips hardly supported his protest. _"Opportunity knocks once, let's reach out and grab it."_

_ "Yeah!" _ Zack cried inanely.

The vampire shot him a look that clearly said he better participate more than that if he aimed on performing ever again. _"Together we'll nab it."_

_ "We'll hitchhike, bus or yellow cab it!" _

Okay, so maybe his improvisational skills were not up to par. It was better than nothing. Still, Spike couldn’t resist perking a brow and inquiring, "Cab it?"

Zack shrugged and joined him for what would become the chorus.

_ "Moving right along. Footloose and fancy-free…" _

Spike began wrestling with his duster in search of his cigarettes, even as he continued. _"Getting there’s half the fun, come share it with me. Moving right along. Doog-a-doon, doog-a-doon. We'll learn to share the load."_

Zack chirpily tossed the roadmap into the back and earned a delighted squeal from Rosie, who was enjoying this immensely, despite the insane cackles coming from two very-amused wives. _"We don’t need a map to keep this show on the road!"_

They paused for a long second. _"’Ey, the song’s sounding better, Zangy,"_ Spike complimented before starting up again. _"Moving right along, we’ve found a life on the highway."_

_ "And your way is my way." _

Spike’s brows perked. _"So trust my navigation."_

Zack smirked. _"California’s where we’re from, the pie-in-the-sky-land_."

_ "Palm trees and warm sand." _

"That he can play in now," Kelly whispered to Buffy. They both tittered.

Their remark wasn’t heard over Zack, who announced, _"Though sadly, we just left Rhode Island."_

_ "We did what?!" _ Spike demanded.

_ "Just forget it." _

They shared a brief look, shrugged, and continued. _"Moving right along…"_ Spike lit his cigarette with one hand and took a long drag. _"Doog-a-doon, doog-a-doon. Hey LA, where've you gone?"_

_ "Send someone to fetch us, we’re in Saskatchewan!" _

Spike tossed him a dirty look.

"Daddy, where’s Saskatchewan?"

_ "Moving right along…" _ The vampire smirked at the question and glanced expectantly to his colleague. _"Doog-a-doon, doog-a-doon. You take it, you know best."_

Zack laughed nervously and attempted to musically change the subject. _"Hey, I’ve never seen the sun come up in the West."_

The girls in the back were laughing so hard that they were practically hyperventilating. Kelly was trying to remind Buffy that she didn’t need to breathe, but the hilarity of the situation got the better of her, and she collapsed in defeat, allowing mirth to take over.

The men pretended not to hear them as they continued. _"Moving right along. We're truly birds of a feather. We're in this together."_

Spike leaned back, growing more comfortable with himself. He could stand being laughed at. After all, it was for a good cause. _"And I know where I’m going."_

Zack apparently agreed with him. His verses were becoming more jovial by the second. _"Movie stars with flashy cars and life with the top down."_

_ "We're storming the big town!" _

_ "Yeah, storm is right. Should it be snowing?" _

Spike frowned and glanced out the window. _"Uh, no I don't think so..."_

They glanced to each other, shrugged, and continued. _"Moving right along."_ Zack glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled at his laughing child. _"Do I see signs of men?"_

"Yeah," Spike agreed in-song. _"‘Welcome’ on the same post that says ‘Come Back Again!’_ "

The car was pulling up to the hotel, signifying the near-end of the number.

_ "Moving right along!" _

_ "Nice town!" _ Zack complimented.

_ "Footloose and fancy-free…" _

_ "You're ready for the big time..." _

Spike smirked and took a long drag off his cigarette. _"Is it ready for me?"_

Thankfully, the two saw fit to end the number as the car shut off, and the air around them automatically alighted with giggles. Rosie was delighted, the women were still fighting for air, and Stephen was struggling against his bonds that had gone forgotten throughout the second part of the trip.

Spike and Zack eyed each other wearily, their willingness and prior jollity withering on command. They coughed with simultaneous persuasion and fought out of the automobile as though it had somehow contaminated them.

"Do it again, do it again!" Rosie asked gleefully.

"Sorry, poodle," Spike retorted with false sincerity. "Already forgotten."

"Ohh, come on," Buffy berated, siddling next to him. "If you can survive through that, the minstrel show oughta be a cake-walk."

"’ve been properly motivated for the minstrel show, if you recall," the Cockney retorted. "Bloody well soiled my rep for the rest of my days."

"Well, yeah." She kissed his cheek and earned a winning smile in response. "But you were damn cute doing it. And it was for a good cause."

He had to agree with that. "Only the best for my girls."

"Spike," Zack said, attempting to wiggle away from Kelly’s similar attentions. Worth it or not, the look he delivered and received spoke well for the universal knowledge that they were to never mention this incident again. "We better go find Ferris."

"Right," he agreed. "Have to get started. And Red’ll be here soon. We better…"

They looked to each other, nodded, and were off the next instant.

And life was good.

Zack’s response when they entered the room could be compared to that of a teenage girl. After checking the mini refrigerator in the corner, he pounced on the bed and picked up the phone. He was dialing before his wife could even get inside the door.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line said when they answered Zack’s call.

"Bueller," Zack replied in his most monotone voice. When the comment didn’t invoke a response, he repeated, "Bueller. Bueller."

"Hi, Zack," Ferris sighed dryly.

"What? I thought it was funny," Zack said, apparently amused with himself.

"Thought you would," he replied before continuing on without waiting for a response. "I already called and got hold of Donna. Josh doesn’t know we’re here."

"But—" Zack began.

Ferris interceded. "Donna thought that it would be a nice surprise. She’s going to get him over…well wherever I call and tell her to. She talked to Bartlet himself and the two of them have been given a little vacation for the rest of the time they’re in England."

"He’s gonna be pissed," Zack smiled. He met the concerned gazes from everyone in the room and gave them a thumbs-up.

"There is only one condition," Ferris attentively added.

"What?" Zack asked immediately on the defensive.

"Well… Donna said that it sounds like…well the President wants too see the show."

"But it’s at Hogwarts. Does he know that?"

"Besides the fact that Josh refuses to let anyone hear anything from the band, I think that’s exactly the reason he wants to come."

"Well, if you talk to Donna before I do, tell her that we’ll talk to Willow and see what we can do."

"Sure thing."

The two men conversed a bit more and decided that they would all meet at Spike’s choice of hotels. Ferris would call Donna before driving there himself and the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and assistant would get a cab.

As soon as Zack got off the phone he disclosed all the contents of the phone conversation.

"’E’s gonna be brassed when he finds out," Spike agreed with Zack’s assessment of Josh’s soon to be temperament.

"Oh well," Kelly said trying to be optimistic. "Donna always says that he never takes vacation. Last one that she remembered his taking was time off when he was shot."

"Something about that doesn’t sound relaxing," Buffy added.

"See," Kelly said, absently rubbing her stomach. No one in the room except Spike took notice to the action. His eyes immediately went to her’s for reassurance that everything was fine. She was staring off into space as she continued on, but Spike sensed that there were no problems. "Everything’s going to work out just fine. No matter what, we’ll get through it. Right?" The last part was added as she came out of her daze and looked at those around her.

"Of course," Zack said going to her side and pulling her in his arms. He gave her a short and sweet peck on the lips, but the touch invoked the desire that had long gone unsatisfied. Zack leaned in and kissed her again with renewed passion and might have taken things to the next step had it not been for the loud cry that came from their daughter’s lips.

The room turned to see Rosie on the ground cry. Next to her stood a bound and gagged boy trying his hardest to make some noise or free himself from his bonds. "Oh, God," Kelly whimpered in confusion as she didn’t know which child to first attend to. Spike helped her decided when he swooped up the little girl in his arms.

"Rosie," Spike said voice full of emotion. "Y’all right?"

The girl continues to wail as her father also came up and put a protective hand on her back. He began lightly rubbing it as he said, "Did he hurt you?" It went without saying whom the ‘he’ was.

Both men shared a pained look as the girl nodded in response. Then simultaneously, they walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, hands still on the child in question.

"What did the bleeding sod do, Rosie? Tell me and Daddy what the goddamn little bugger did."

Though his language was entirely inappropriate, under the current circumstance nobody even flinched. The little girl nodded and then reached down between herself and her Big Bad protector to clutch hold of her shin.

Zack followed her hand and lifted up her little sundress just enough to see the bruise where the boy apparently kicked her. Though the child played rough, the source of her crying was that the contact actually drew blood. Zack kissed his daughter’s wet cheek, then her temple, and then he bent down and swiped the blood away and kissed there as well.

Neither woman in the room had been given a chance to see what was wrong with the girl. The men had snatched her up like she was last box of Weetabix in production. They both did see Zack’s eyes when he turned around to face the now unbound little boy. They also saw the drops of blood on Zack’s hand and the slightest shade of pink brushing his lips. The boy saw these things also and began bumbling excuses of how Rosie had tripped.

"Zack!!" His two favorite wives screamed as he flew across the room and snatched up the child.

"I’ve had enough of you, you little piece of shit," He snarled; now grabbing the boy by the neck and holding him in the air. "My wife might have been nice enough to let you come, but I never gave consent that you would make it home."

"Zack!" Even Spike gasped a bit at his buddy’s reaction. Rosie had stopped crying and was looking at her father with emotions torn between horror and glee.

"You’ve hurt my daughter more than I’ll allow anyone to. I don’t care if you’re a child," With that he proceeded to open the door with the intention of throwing him off the balcony. He would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the people on the ground looking up at him from the parking lot.

"Zack?" Lisa called up irately from the ground. "What kind of fucking child’s game is that?"

"It’s called Kill the Spawn," he muttered under his breath as he put the kid down on the ground again.

"I hope we didn’t interrupt something that was about to have a happy conclusion," Anya said. She then turned around and starting heading back to the car. "Don’t worry. We’ll come back. Just make sure you clean up the mess beforehand."

"Anya," Xander grumbled, grabbing her hand to pull her forward.

"Did we interrupt something?" Dawn asked as they came face-to-face with the room entrance. She caught her sister’s eyes that silently warned her to drop the subject.

"Well…" Giles said as they all began to congregate in the doorway. "We decided to follow suit and have acquired the room next door for a few hours until Josh and Donna show up." He then tossed the keys to Lisa. "Why don’t you unlock it and freshen and catch up with your son. Slater, could you go too and help her out. And Xander and Anya, can you go tell Ferris where we are. He was still at the front desk waiting when I left." As soon as they were out of the way, Willow and Oz taking suit to find Ferris, he slammed the door shut. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Zack looked at him without a shred of remorse. In fact, he still had a brooding look in his eyes. "He hurt her," he said without emotion.

"Oh?" The Watcher’s attentions turned to the child who was still being pampered Spike’s arms. He walked over and crouched down by the pair, taking hold of Rosie’s outstretched hand. "What happened?"

"Boo boo," She sniffled hiking up her dress for Giles to see her wound. "He kicked me. Daddy got real mad. Madder than Uncle Spike," she added with a degree of awe in her voice. "Daddy told him he wasn’t going to hurt me no more."

"You weren’t going to—" Giles left the sentence unfinished. He didn’t want to speak the words murder when it came to Zack or a small child. He looked up at Zack, eyes pleading for an adamant denial or a offended scoff. He received no such thing. Just a simple shrug was Zack’s only reply.

"I don’t know," Zack muttered staring down at his shoes. He kicked the carpet as his shoulders slumped. "I just don’t know." He looked up to add. "I’ve just been so… stressed. I guess I… I kinda lost it. Sorry."

"Who were you apologizing to, Daddy?" Rosie asked hopping down from Spike’s lap and releasing hold of Giles’s hand. She ran over and awaited her father to pick up, which he promptly did.

"I don’t know," the blond stammered with the first hints of a smile since the newcomers had arrived. "I guess Giles," he said looking over at the Watcher with a grin.

"I believe I might need elaboration on that point," Giles said with furrowed brows.

"Well, now you are going to have to deal with that kid. While you had your little mini-Spawn-Break, we were dealing with it. Now it’s your turn."

Giles had to smile as he replied, "Well, thank you and apology not accepted."

"Why?" Buffy asked.

"Because the beast is still alive."

"GILES!!" All but Zack, Spike and Rosie shrieked. The two men were too delighted in the comment, while the girl was too much in the response it had incited.

After the shock and laughter died down, Dawn, who was still in the room, came and took the child out of her father’s grasp. Rosie, who was delighted to see her favorite baby-sitter, followed the older girl to where they began to play on the bed.

Kelly sighed in relief as she saw that for another moment, disaster was avoided.

Ferris was in the room shortly, accompanied by Slone. Both apologized and said that Cameron would be with them shortly. He had directions from Willow and was going to meet them at Hogwarts. "So what are we playing?" Ferris asked. He was shocked beyond belief when he saw list of Snape’s requests. "What about our stuff?"

"Doesn’t look like we’ll be doing that," Zack said bitterly.

"Don’t start that ‘gain, Zangy," Spike said lighting up a cigarette. "We play a couple of ‘em poncy songs, then we turn up the heat and really start rocking."

"That sounds better," Ferris said with renewed enthusiasm. "I’ve got my parts down cold."

Buffy cleared her throat loudly. When the three Dysfunctionals didn’t pay notice she tried again. With still no response she decided to simply speak up. "Hey!"

"Huh?" The three men said staring up at her blankly.

"Did you forget something? Something big?" When their looks didn’t change, she decided to spell it out even more for them. "I’m in the band too! I don’t have and music!"

"Spike," Ferris growled. "You were supposed to cover her."

"Don’t blame me. ‘S’all Zangy’s fault. E’s in charge."

"No way," Zack said throwing his hands up in the air. "You always tell me that you’re the leader because you’re the main singer. We’ve had this argument. You always claim leader so it was your responsibility."

"But you always wanna be leader," Spike said. "And as my best friend, I ding wanna ‘urt yeah. I made you leader. So, ‘s’all your fault."

"I don’t care whose fault," Buffy snapped. "I would just like a little music here."

"Sure," her husband replied. "Get her the music Zangy."

"What?" Zack said flabbergasted. "I thought you brought it."

"No. I gave it to…" Spike’s gaze narrowed as he turned to Kelly. "Please tell me that you have it."

"What?" Kelly said innocently. "Have what?"

"The music!" the platinum vampire said jumping up and down so much that he dropped his nicotine delight. Kelly waltzed over and picked it up. She was silent for a moment before saying, "That was what you gave me wasn’t it?"

All three men began pounding their heads with their hands. It took a minute before them to recognize the sound they heard as laughing. When they looked up, Kelly, Buffy and the rest of the women were in hysterics.

"What?" Spike snapped.

"I don’t know what you guys would do without me," Kelly replied going over to her carry-on and tossing the envelope at him.

"Very funny," Zack replied. "That was real cute, Kel."

"Well, I thought so."

"Wait a minute," Spike said holding up a hand for silence. "That’s funny again, but where are they, darling?"

"What do you mean?" Kelly said slowly.

"These are all a bunch a bloody dessert recipes."

"Opps," She said sheepishly walking over and taking the package and handing it to Buffy. "Here’s those recipes that we were talking about."

"Well then where is the music?" Slone asked.

"They’ll be waiting for you on your kitchen table when you get home."

Zack blinked slowly, giving his wife the skeptical once-over—completely lost to reaction that he didn’t bat an eye of greeting as Willow and Xander made their way into the room. He knew Kelly well enough to grasp that she wouldn’t be able to keep up a dishonest façade while starring as the center of a negative limelight. When she offered no response further than a shamefaced shrug and an awkwardly friendly smile, he knew they were doomed.

A glance to Spike verified this, though he was surprised to see his friend shrouded with more concern than annoyance. True, the vampire wasn’t about to burst into glorious song about…well…not being able to burst into glorious song, but he didn’t look nearly as irritated as one would expect of a soulless entity. He instead flashed Kelly a sympathetic, understanding little grin and shrugged, reaching for his cigarettes. "Eh," he retorted with a shrug. "And the great disappointment is…? Look, Zangy. I know you’ve got your knickers in a twist ‘bout the prat not really being interested in our music, but at the end of the day, who gives a ruddy damn?"

"I do," Zack and Ferris echoed together.

"For what Snape’s paying, I’d prance around in a bloody tutu." He smirked at the stunned looks on their faces and raised the fag to his lips. "Yeah. You heard me. A tutu. Have you taken a peek at the quoted price, Morris? Through the sodding roof and back. No bloody wonder that little Malfoy prat was so eager to get back—apparently, his Pap is helping fund this shindig."

"Something I’m not too wild about," Willow murmured under her breath. "Don’t get me wrong, Spike. Draco’s proven to be…well…as interesting as I would’ve expected from him, but Lucious Malfoy is not the sort of man you want running your deals."

"’Ey. It’s long as we’re getting paid, it’s no skin off my nose."

"Did you really say a tutu?" Ferris asked in horror.

"Please, for everyone who just came back from the bad place, don’t send us there again," Xander pleaded.

The vampire ignored him and took a step forward, snatching the proffered invoice out of Willow’s grasp. "Can’t believe you haven’t seen this," he commented. "Red showed me before we were off. Why else on sodding earth would you think ‘d agree to all this?"

"Spite?"

"Money?"

"Sell-out?"

"Evil?"

"Apathy?"

"Okay!" The Cockney furrowed a bit and sent Buffy a narrowed glance, warning her without words to stop snickering before he gave her something to snicker about. "So I’m a sell-out. The big surprise is…? Come on! You’ll be selling out too when you see what the ole Magician’s willing to cough up. And I wager we can boost the price a bit yet. ‘Specially if Pom-Pom here really did forget our music."

Kelly frowned. "Don’t call me that."

Spike sniggered at her challengingly. "Oh, don’t get all shirty ‘bout a little nickname," he retorted. "’ve called others a lot worse."

"Holy frijoles!" Zack exclaimed in sharp interruption, eyes wandering over the quoted price. "This is…that’s…we’re…"

"No longer impoverished?" the vampire provided.

"Like we ever were," Buffy retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Don’t be holy-ing anything yet, Morris," Ferris warned, leaning forward to peer over his shoulder. "You still have to split that thing five ways."

Zack nodded absently, then glanced to the Bloody’s, who would be acquiring the most on principle, since they had individual salaries. The check had already been divvied to accommodate each member of the band, though the proportioned amounts were granted on the scale of importance. He and Spike had the top number as the respectful, though somewhat dubious band leaders; adding Buffy’s share had to make her and her husband the wealthiest undead couple in the world. Josh was next, though that was likely more due to his political ties. Ferris, who no one knew despite his notoriously dated campaign, had the smallest share. Even at that, though, the amount was hardly something too frown upon.

Zack met Spike’s eyes. "Oh my God," he said. "I really hope you two signed a pre-nup."

At that, the vampires adapted identical indignant looks. "Sorry," Buffy snapped. "I planned a marriage, not a divorce."

"Wasn’t really planned, pet," Spike said unhelpfully, earning a scowl. "Well, not that it matters, ‘course. I just thought I’d point that out.

"If we’re not going to be playing any original music," Ferris began hotly, "then why the hell am I here?"

"To help with the minstrel show?" Willow provided.

"I would just like to point out that I do have my pride."

"And I would just like to point out that your pride is all you’ll have if you don’t do this," Zack retorted snidely. "We can always take your paycheck and split it four ways, you know. And I don’t care how much of a schemer you claim to have been back in the glory days of high school—which, by the way, I am so over—I know for a fact you’ve never seen this much money in your life."

"How can we be sure that Dumbledore quoted the right price?" Kelly asked meekly, feeling obligated as her dutiful role as Mrs. Kelly Goody Heart. "I mean, as I understand it, Wizard money is different than Mug…people money. What if he really, really goofed?"

"He didn’t," Willow interjected. "Trust me. I had a long, long, long talk with him when we were setting this up. He thinks that the price is more than fair, considering all the trouble that it took getting over here plus the cost of what he wants you to do."

"Trouble?" Spike echoed skeptically, arching a brow.

"And, not to mention, the additional whammy of mojo I’ll have to put on you so you can actually see Hogwarts. I tried to tell him that you guys are used to magic and whatnot, but he wouldn’t hear it."

"’Sides, Red," the vampire interrupted. "’S not like your magic has always gone by without consequences, right?" There was a long minute as everything eyed him dubiously, internally berating him for mentioning anything of the negative at all. "Well!" he spat crossly. "Someone had to bloody say it! Might as well be on awares in case she decides to get cute and turn the lot of you into newts…on accident, of course."

"There won’t be consequences this time," she said softly.

Spike met the pained look behind the Witch’s eyes, and his hard façade instantly mitigated. "’Course, Red," he amended. "No sodding consequences. Not while I’m unlived."

She took a minute to smile at him before getting back to business. "Right. Well, before you guys start bickering about prices and wages and whatnot, I better tell you what I came in here to tell you. We’re leaving soon…like half hourish soon. Everything you guys need is already at Hogwarts…Dumbledore didn’t want you to have to go to any extra trouble to call for your equipment and such."

"He should’ve thought about that before we boxed it all up," Zack snipped. "It was supposed to get there before we—"

"It’s okay. He has a friend who works for Fed-EX. They should be getting the owl anytime now." Willow shook her head and heaved a sigh. "Besides, there’s things for the minstrel show that you don’t have on your persons. Like the costumes and such. He has everything you could possibly need. Trust me. Preparation is Dumbledore’s middle name."

"Albus Preparation Dumbledore?" Xander asked skeptically.

Willow frowned at him. "Fine, Mr. Literal."

"What about Josh and Donna?" Buffy asked. "And please clarify how exactly we’re getting to Hogwarts."

"That’s another thing. Donna and President Bartlet are curious about the entire I’magical’ thing, and I think Donna wanted to visit some of the shops for souvenirs." Willow sighed. "I have no idea how she’s going to smuggle everything back across the border…even if it isn’t illegal, it’ll send the Secret Service down a mess of general badness trying to identify everything." When she realized everyone was staring at her blankly, the Witch shook her head and continued. "They’ll hook up with Wes, Cordy, and someone named Lorne, according to Fred. Lorne’s been to Hogwarts once before and will know how to get them there."

"Fred?"

"Yeah. She works at Angel Investigations in Los Angeles…and at this point, I should explain that A.I. has continued, even without Angel." Willow offered Buffy a somewhat sympathetic smile. "Cordy got a vision not too long ago that forewarned something of the bad was going to happen…but she and Wes are having no luck deciphering the vision, so they’ve decided to drop by for the show. Gunn and Fred are holding up the fort in LA. Anyway, to make a long explanation short—"

"Too late," everyone predictably interrupted.

"—I gave Donna and President Bartlet some money I had saved in Gringott’s and sent them to Hogsmeade. They’re supposed to meet Josh and get to Hogwarts through one of the passageways."

Giles looked at her uncertainly. "You’re making the President walk?"

"Making? No. He kinda insisted. I think it’s a part of trying to keep this entire thing secret as long as possible." Willow paused and glanced to Buffy, not bothering to mask her diffidence. "And, to answer your other question…we’re traveling with Floo Powder."

Zack and Spike’s eyes boggled.

"What?" Kelly demanded. "Oh no. Not again. Sheesh, Willow, you know what happened last time!"

"Now, wait a tick," Spike said, managing to wriggle out of his surprise long enough to look mildly offended. "I think Zangy and I can handle a little warping. So it went wonky the first time…that was years ago!"

"Honey, you ended up in Shmuckyville," Buffy reminded him. "You could’ve been stuck there had you not had—"

"Luv, as much as I appreciate your concern, we were there for all of ten minutes."

"That was long enough to get wasted on magic mushrooms," Kelly pointed out resentfully. "You two can’t go gallivanting around like…" She paused, unable to bring herself to mention that night. "Like…like…well, there will be no gallivanting!"

"Kel, lower your voice please," Spike requested softly, his attention suddenly entrapped at the sight of a dozing Rosie. The child had evidently fallen asleep in the midst of the adult’s discussion, and after the mess that was earlier; the last thing he wanted was for the girl’s slumber to be disturbed. "Right. No bloody gallivanting. Wouldn’t dream of it. We’re just using Floo Powder. It’s not like Zangy and I didn’t learn our lesson the first time around. Enunciation’s the key."

"Better have Zack do it, then," Giles muttered.

"Ha bloody ha, Ripper."

Buffy still looked uncertain. With a lasting glance to her friend, she released a long breath and asked, "Willow, are you sure about this?"

"Positive," the Witch answered. "Really, Floo Powder’s not as bad as you make it out to be. I understand that one bad experience with it can leave a lasting impression, but I know that Zack and Spike are capable of…" She shut up instantly, not wanting to chance jinxing herself. "Let’s just get everyone together and get this show on the road. We’re gonna be late."

Though it had to be an abnormal display to see a group of oddly-compiled travelers congregating around the fireplace in the lobby, not one of the hotel’s patrons thought to stop and ask them. Kelly stiffened immediately when she saw Slater toughly caught between Angelus and Oz. The fact that he sent her a look that could freeze hell didn’t help.

Spike picked up on this and growled an unvoiced warning. When Slater failed to look fazed at all, he extended the threat by allowing himself to partially vamp. His canines extended and his eyes burnt a malicious yellow. It was the closest he could come to relishing game face without the actual relishing. "Watch it, mate."

"Or what?" Slater snapped. "You’ll eat me? I could’ve sworn that’s only something that friends do."

Everyone froze in horror as eyes began to dart from Zack to his recently revived friend with undisguised astonishment. Kelly whimpered again and was practically shoved from sight as Spike prowled forward, notably unaffected. The partial game-face gave way for the emergence of all his bumpies in full glory. He did not attempt to hide his contemptuous sneer. "Oh, so Special Ed caught on," he snarled. "Here’s a thought: get over it."

"That’s what I told them," Anya said with an astute nod. "Slater decided to not adhere my advice and now is all bent out of shape about it, even if he is alive and thus not eaten. Humans have no sense in grudge holding."

Xander closed his eyes, but there was an almost nostalgic smile on his face. "Ahn," he said slowly. "Remember when we talked about letting people deal with their issues without interfering?"

"Yes," she retorted bluntly. "But that was when we were still having sex, therefore I believe your right to dictate what I say passes for null and void. Especially if we’re through having sex because you’re having sex with her." She pointed at Lisa.

"I wouldn’t go that far," Lisa murmured. She might have tried for a more vindictive rejoinder had she not been wrestling Stephen for dominance over who was leading whom.

"TMI!" Dawn protested.

"Enough!" Spike growled, eyes never leaving Slater. The cry was enough to stir Rosie from her slumber, and he nearly flinched when he heard her sweet voice asking her mother what was going on. However, he would not allow himself to turn around and address her. It would signify the loss of all credibility, and Slater would have no reason to take him seriously. "Sod your bleeding dramatics. You bollixed yourself up, mate. Anything Zangy did—despite how deeply disturbing—was very much of the deserved. Either way, your quarrel is with him. Not the other two. Leave the bird and the Bit out of this. Get me?" His eyes blazed dangerously and his tongue darted out to caress the elongated point of his fangs. "Or do I need to convince you?"

Slater met his gaze penny for penny, pound for pound, determined not to flinch. To his credit, he was surprisingly successful. Not many could endure a stare-down with the infamous vampire without so much as a shiver. "Yeah," he said coldly, voice not betraying one inkling of intimidation. "I got you."

"Good," Spike replied, tone leveled the same. "Let’s see that it stays that way." He motioned for Kelly, Zack, and Rosie to make their way into the fireplace without breaking eye contact. "The lot of you better go on," he advised. "I don’t trust Brawn for Brains here to not throw a bloody temper tantrum and bugger up our chances of a nonstop trip."

Kelly didn’t need to be told twice. She was inside the sanctuary provided by the brick-layered fireplace before Zack could even begin to voice his reaction. Rosie began to protest in her arms, looking at Spike with wide-eyes that were nearly filled with trepidation. The child had given her father the same look not too long ago when she witnessed his dealing with Stephen. Somewhere between fascination and fear—the line had not be drawn yet, but something in the air forewarned that they were terribly close.

"Uncle Spike?" she called uncertainly.

It was only then Spike tore his eyes away, features instantly dissolving to human once more as he sent her a small, nearly unfelt smile. "Yes, poodle?"

"Are you coming?"

There was a rustling at his side, and he felt Buffy entangle her hand with his to offer a reassuring squeeze. The touch was casual enough, but he knew well to detect the feeling behind it. The nearly-secret language he shared with his wife was enough to send most Watchers into an unbothered state of research. How a Slayer could comfort her so-called mortal enemy simply by reinstating her presence was beyond the lines of understanding. And yet more appreciated than even he could begin to assess.

"Buffy and I’ll meet up with you real quick, sweetling," he told her with a tender smile. "You hurry on ahead with your mum and pap."

"But I wanna go with you…" The girl complained, trying with more conviction to wriggle out of Kelly’s grasp.

"I’ll follow in a minute."

"Oh yeah," Slater drawled, rolling his eyes at the tender display. "You’re really intimidating."

Rosie turned to the unwelcome man with a menacing frown—well, as menacing as a child’s frown could be. She was more successful than other children her age, seeing as she grew up around creatures that served as astute models to get her growling technique mastered, but the overall affect was dismissed for the cuteness factor that she couldn’t escape if she tried. "You better be afraid of him," she warned Slater proudly. "He’s Willyum the Bloody."

"Is he now?" Slater asked boredly in a tone that no one should ever take with a child, unless the child happened to be Stephen.

"He takes care of people he doesn’t like by sticking spikes into their heads."

The man glanced up to the unmoved parental influences, who looked no more astonished of their child’s knowledge than anyone around him. "You let her know this?" he demanded.

For the first time, Kelly’s resolve melted in place, and she was able to look at Slater without flinching. Perhaps it was the affect of being surrounded by friends, but she wanted to think otherwise. "We see no need to lie to her," she told him coldly. "Rosie is a very intelligent, understanding girl. She knows what Spike is and what he has done."

"And she’s not afraid of him."

"Because I would never hurt her, you nit," the vampire in question snapped. "You, on the other hand, have done your fair share of hurting. And I do seem to recall saying this wasn’t the time for all the sodding dramatics."

"But Uncle Spike…" Rosie complained. "I wanna—"

"Rose, you mind me, you hear? Go with your pap. ‘ll be there shortly." He offered her an affectionate smile when she nodded her reluctant compliance, and stopped struggling with her mother for freedom. With that, he turned to Zack and nodded as his friend wordlessly lifted the Floo Powder. He carefully pronounced HOGWARTS upon descent, and the Morris clan was gone the next instant.

As soon as they were gone, Spike motioned for Buffy to join him in the fireplace. The air around them was tense enough to be sliced like warm bread, but no one said a word. Willow approached with their bundle of Floo Powder, and enclosed it in her friend’s hand before turning to Spike for delayed instructions.

"Dumbledore," she said softly, hoping to distract them from the growing audience outside the fireplace, "wants to see you as soon as you arrive."

"What for, Red?"

"I dunno. He wouldn’t tell me. But it probably won’t take too long. You have to prepare for tonight." She offered him a small smile. "Now remember…enunciate."

"Don’t worry, Wills." Buffy held up the Floo Powder in demonstration. "I’m the one wielding the magic right now."

"Thank God," she replied, favoring Spike with a teasing wink.

The Slayer sighed and turned to her husband, squeezing his hand from where they were still joined. "Love you," she told him with a brief, however heartfelt kiss.

Spike flustered a bit at being so blatantly on display during a cordial exchange, but his heart swelled at being reassured of her affections in front of all her friends. Despite how many years passed, that was one thing he would never take for granted. The knowledge that he didn’t deserve what he had, and how the smallest whisper of declaration could mean the whole bloody world in a nutshell. "Love you too, kitten."

"You ready?"

"As ‘ll ever be." He grinned. "Better let go, love. Got myself a date. She’ll be mighty disappointed if her uncle’s tardy."

Buffy smiled at his candor—it never ceased to amaze her just how well he was with children, and the blatant love he had for Rosie touched her at every turn. However, she could not do anything but nod her agreement as the Floo Powder was released, and her command was issued.

By the time that everyone was standing on Hogwarts property, the sun was setting. As they followed Willow down the corridor to their rooms, Zack glanced out the window.

"Willow?" he called to the leader of the line.

"Yeah, Zack," She said too busy with the moving stair cases to turn around.

"You said that the gig was Friday night. Looks like that’s like right now. Dumbledore isn’t really expecting us to just get up there and do the show this instant is he?"

"No," Willow reassured. "He wanted you guys to get here tonight so you guys could start rehearsing. Snape’s taking care of some… important business while classes are out for the time. He’s going to get back late Saturday or Sunday. So, we thought that this gave ample time for preparations."

"Sounds like a plan," Xander said.

"The holidays aren’t here yet," Giles pondered. "Well, not quite. Why the long break?"

"Even in the wizarding community we have our big bads. Well, one. The Ord—" she cut herself off abruptly. "The wizards are having to deal with a few problems that he’s starting creating."

"Are these recent developments?" Giles inquired. He was hoping that it was either completely random or something to shed light on current situations.

"Yes and no," Willow replied. She went to elaborate. "No, Voldemort has been causing big trouble for a while. Not just demony, but wicked magic. But, yes because we’ve shut down Hogwarts before but now it isn’t because we were afraid of the children’s safety here. Well we were, but it’s because disruptions were everywhere. Parents dying or pulling children out. Professors working to try and… I think I’ll shut up now."

"That’s probably good," Kelly said. A couple dirty glances were thrown her way and she tried to amend herself. "That’s not what I meant. Willow knows I love this stuff. But we don’t want her to say to much in light of present company." He gaze trailed toward the back, where Slater was being escorted by Spike and Buffy.

"If you know what’s good for you," the Slayer hissed into A.C.’s ear as they walked along in the corridor. "You’ll close your mouth before anything comes out of it and keep it shut."

Slater gave her a glare but kept the jibe that was on the tip of his tongue to himself.

"Here," Willow said throwing her hands up in relief as they reached the wing that everyone was staying at. "You guys will have this place all to yourselves for the stay. Think of it as a little trip back to college. Or for some," She motioned to Dawn and the littler kids, "A preview. Students normally don’t room in these. They’re just for the special guests."

"Can we get a tour?" Dawn said admiring all of the moving portraits.

Oz answered. "I’m sure Dumbledore will give you one tonight or first thing tomorrow. If he doesn’t me and Will…will."

"Do we get to choose rooms?" Anya asked. When Willow nodded she turned to Xander and said, "Are you sure you want to room with your wife and child? That doesn’t sound like fun and relaxing."

Lisa was too busy berating her son to even hear, but Xander responded, "I know you don’t like her, but…"

"You don’t like her either," Anya pointed out. "Even Kelly can’t stand her anymore. Don’t blame her. If my best friend talked about—"

"Well," Kelly interceded. "Xander may just want his own room if there isn’t one with double beds."

Xander flashed her and infinitely grateful look. His marriage was in trouble and in serious jeopardy of failing all together and he was sick with knowing that everyone realized it. Some pointed it out to his face like he must be blind or that it was amusing. Kelly on the other hand, was always trying her hardest to help him in more subtle ways. He owed her a bouquet of roses or a car for all she’d done. Taking Stephen didn’t improve his marriage, but it did allow them both to sleep through the night. Separate rooms, but still through the night.

"I think there might be a room with double beds. Call it," Zack said throwing his hand up in the air. "Unless Dawn wants a sleepover."

"Maybe tomorrow, but tonight I want good ol’ fashioned sleep."

"I hate to be pushy, but when do we eat?" Kelly asked. As if on cue, her stomach growled so loud that everyone around her it occur.

"You hungry darling?" Spike said now at his best friend’s side. He walked over and put his hand protectively on her stomach. "You better get something in there. You don’t need to be going ’round here fasting." When he noticed that his gentle words and touching were attracting a crowd, he pulled his hand away and added a little harsher. "We got ’nough to worry ’bout than dieting birds."

"Yeah," Zack said slowly. He glanced to Buffy who matched his confused look. Both knew that Spike was more protective of Kelly than he never wanted the rest of the Scoobies to know and he was always pretty sweet with her when it was the two couples alone, but this display in public was a little mind-boggling.

"Don’t worry," Willow assured. "After you guys pick your rooms, we’ll go down to dinner. When you get back, all your luggage will be there."

On that note, everyone scampered around finding their perfect rooms. Zack and Kelly were pleased that the room they called was beautifully decorated and extremely large. Rosie begged to go find her uncle before dinner. "Alright," Zack agreed. He opened the door and called into the hall, "SPIKE!!"

The platinum blonde wasn’t as far away as his friend had suspected, but merely right across the hall. "What the bloody hell is it?" he demanded throwing the door open.

Zack flashed him a delighted grin. Then he sang, "We’re here at Hogwarts. We’re here at Hogwarts."

Spike laughed out loud at his friend’s happiness. He then pretended to be annoyed. "’S that the only bleeding reason you yell like a dying sod for?"

"No." He said opening the door all the way. Rosie immediately dashed to her uncle. "Somebody wanted her Spikey time before dinner. She’ll probably be tired for it after."

"Well then," Spike said picking the child up into his arms. He looked at Rosie as he said, "I’m thinking’ that’s a very good reason to yell at me."

"Good. Kelly found some crackers in her purse to ease off the hunger. We might be slightly late to dinner tonight," Zack added with a wink.

"You better be careful. She might not be wanting to do any dancing before she’s filled herself up."

"Oh, she’s wanting to dance. Trust me. And I’ll fill her up before—"

"Zack!" Spike gasped, invoking a giggle as he tried to cover Rosie’s ears.

"What?" Zack said feigning innocent. "I think she had some chips too." The naughty-boy look was in his eyes as he went to the other side of the hall after saying bye to his girl.

Rosie was delighted when Spike went inside his room with her and shut the door. After admiring all the furnishings and declaring whether or not they were like the one’s in her room, she jumped up in the middle of the bed next to lounging Buffy. "Are you sleepy?" She asked.

"Just a little. We’ve had a big couple of days."

"If you want me to go leave you alone," Rosie said with the saddest eyes. "You are probably tired, and wanna get away from me for a while."

"NO," Buffy said beating Spike to the denial. "You are no problem. We love having you around, Rosie."

"Hear that? No trouble, bubble," Spike said coming over and flopping on the bed next to Rosie and giving her a little tickle.

"I love having me around too," the girl giggled.

She spent the next half an hour giggling and having a blast with her godparents. Since they had no children, and never expected them, they showered her with all the love and attention they would use if she were theirs. For the briefest moment, both vampires secretly pretended that Rosie was their little girl on her first European vacation. The pretended all the way down to dinner until they walked through the doors and instantaneously became Aunt Buffy and Uncle Spike again.

The little girl noticed the subtle change in behavior, but was too excited to voice it. She ran around the table saying pleasant greetings to everyone who was already seated. She then ran back over and took her uncle’s hand. "Momma and Daddy aren’t here yet."

"Nope. Your pap said they might be a little late. Come on then. We’ll fill that tummy right up."

"For a moment I thought she might be yours," A powerful and majestic voice replied behind them.

Spike whirled around and immediately recognized the man to be Albus Dumbledore. "Nope," he replied. He stuck out his free hand and shook with the Headmaster. "Name’s Spike."

"I know," Dumbledore replied with a wink. "I hope you’re enjoying those jewels I found for you and your wife." He took a break to introduce himself to Buffy. "I thought that they might make your travels a little more relaxing."

"Thank you so much for everything," Buffy commented. "This is…amazing."

"It’s an honor to have a vampire slayer in Hogwarts. First one ever. Well, no. There was one in about 1753, I believe. But that was not nearly as pleasant. She was having a few problems with a Defense Professor. But, oh well. You are most certainly the first invited Slayer."

"Well, thank you," Buffy blushed as much as her unheated flesh provided.

Dumbledore crouched down next to Rosie and stuck out his hand, "And you must be Rose."

"You must be really old," Rosie said reaching out and stroking her beard. Before she could be reprimanded for the comment, Albus burst out laughing.

"She is very astute for her years. But as she said, I believe her parents are not here." He scanned the room in search of Zack and Kelly.

"They might be a little late," Buffy said. "They recommended that we might start without them.

As soon as the meal was brought to the table, Zack and Kelly burst through the door. Both were out of breath and smiling sheepishly. Their hair was wet and Kelly was still trying to slip on her shoes. They paused in the doorway, so Kelly could lean on her husband to slip on her sandal. "Sorry," she replied when they approached the table.

"No need," Dumbledore said standing up and walking over. "The food has just been brought out, so you had perfect timing."

"Oh wow," Kelly gasped hitting her husband on the arm. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Should I call you Mrs. Morris or Kelly?"

"Kelly is fine," she beamed grabbing her stomach absently.

"Congratulations, might I add."

"For what?" Zack asked. Kelly’s hand dropped as she looked at the Headmaster in horror.

"Well, I would say coming to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said making note that the father was yet in knowledge of upcoming arrivals. "Muggles don’t normally ever know about this place. Let alone see it with their own eyes."

"Scubbles," Rosie giggled, poking at her uncle.

"Well thank you," Zack said shaking the wizard’s hand. "Just call me Zack. And you don’t know how honored we all are. The Dysfunctionals are more than excited to help in Professor Snape’s birthday celebration."

"Good, good. I was afraid that you boys, and Buffy," he said, giving a thoughtful glance to the Slayer, "would be a bit reserved after seeing the choices that I believe Severus would enjoy."

"No. We are willing to do anything and everything to help support our… wizarding community," Zack said, a little dumbfounded by his own ass kissing.

Spike snickered at Zack’s choice of words and his change of attitude. As Zack and Kelly took their seats next to Rosie, who was also sitting next to her uncle, Spike leaned over the child to say, "Sounds like somebody just changed their tune."

Zack smiled and replied, "You have no idea. My mood couldn’t get any better right now."

Then the doors to the hall opened once again.

"Donna. I swear. You better tell me what is going on right now or you might be looking for another way home."

"I think that the President will let me ride Air Force One."

"That depends if you’re working for his Deputy Chief of Staff or not," he said still looking at his assistant’s comical gaze.

"I don’t think your treating that bird of yours too sweet, if you’re asking me," Spike replied with a smirk.

"SPIKE!" Josh yelled eyes bulging. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh," Donna said with completely unconvincing shock. "Did I forget to mention that everyone but Sam is here from California?"

Josh’s jaw dropped as he looked around the table. "I believe so," he said slowly. When he caught eyes with Zack and Spike he threw his hands in the air in frustration. "If this was about the stupid gig you wanted to do tonight, then you’re dumber than I thought. I have to work. The President has business here and I told you that I couldn’t do it."

"No," Zack said assuring his friend. "We didn’t come about that gig. We came about another."

"Guys," Josh growled. "I told you that I can’t leave the President. I’m not going back to the States till Bartlet goes."

"Good," Donna said. Josh tossed her a grateful look for her support. It quickly changed as she added, "The gig is right here, so you don’t have to go anywhere."

"What?" Josh blinked.

"I think she said that you aren’t having to worry about travel. You’re staying here."

"We are not," he said shaking his finger adamantly at Spike. He then turned to Donna and said, "We are not."

"I do insist, Mr. Lyman," Dumbledore said standing up again and walking over to the newest arrivals.

"Excuse me if I say, you don’t have the ambassador look at all," Josh said skeptically.

"Well, since I’m not, that must be good."

"Donna," Josh said trying his hardest to remain pleasant through his clenched teeth.

"This is the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore," Donna informed.

"We’re at a school for… witchcraft. We can’t be. We have a dinner with the Foreign Ambassador of England."

"No you don’t," Wesley said, walking in. "Donna and the President concocted that simply as a ruse to get you here."

"Is Wes telling the truth?" Josh asked in a stupor.

"Yes," Donna winced.

"Is there anything else that you didn’t tell me?"

"Yeah," Cordelia answered. "Wes and I aren’t the British welcoming committee for any diplomat. We’re… well, you’ve met Buffy and Spike. That kind of people."

"Vampires?"

"No. People who deal with wicked stuff. Angel Investigations," Cordy pointed out.

"Riveting, I’m sure, but if you’d all sit down, we could eat."

"Where’s Lorne?" Buffy asked.

"He went back for Cameron," Wesley replied taking a seat after his introduction with the Headmaster. "He wasn’t at our rendezvous point, so Lorne brought us here and went back. He said not to worry. If there’s trouble, he’ll call."

With that, dinner finally began. Red wine was poured for all except the two children. Kelly opted for water while all undead at the table had their own red nourishment in their goblets. A feast of Hogwarts proportions was served and nobody left the table remotely hungry. Luckily, Dumbledore spent most of the time telling extraordinary stories and legends of the ancient world he represented, so nothing like the incident’s of Buffy’s dinner party tool place. In fact, everyone had a splendid time.

After dinner, everyone got up and began to mingle around the room. The Dysfunctionals all came together instantaneously as soon as dinner was adjourned. "What is going on?" Josh demanded. He tried to get Donna to talk during dinner, but she was insistent on only listening at the table.

"A professor is having a party," Ferris answered. "And we have to play a bunch of sissy show tunes for him."

"When?" Josh asked bewildered. "I need to get back to the hotel. The President has a meeting on international financial security that I’m supposed to conduct first thing in the morning and—"

"Bartlet is giving you a vacation," Zack said giving the horrified man a comforting pat on the back. "You are off duty till Air Force One is on the ground in Washington D.C."

"Huh?" Was all he managed to say.

"Bartlet thought this was a perfect time for a vacation. You can’t work…" When Josh tried to make excuses, Donna continued on. "Your bags were packed and you don’t have a thing to worry about. The performance is Sunday and you don’t have to be back to work until Wednesday. It’s not the two weeks paid vacation, but it’s a start."

"The President set me up?"

"Even the cleaning lady set you up," Spike pointed out. "No use complaining. Just get over it."

"OK," Josh said. "Donna, will you at least go back to the hotel and get the Thompson file? I’ll only work on it at night before bed."

"No," Donna replied simply. "I’m on vacation too." She then proceeded to smugly walk off.

"Sorry to interrupt," Dumbledore said strolling over to the band. He handed Zack a list. "Here’s a more exact list of some musicals that Severus has grown fond of over the years. I hope you all are familiar with them. As for you Mr. Spike," he said turning to the caught off guard vampire. "I was wondering if we could have a little chat. It will last five minutes at most."

"Sure," Spike said, he leaned over to his wife to give her a kiss and say, "Make sure that Slater prat causes no trouble without me." He then followed Dumbledore out of the hall.

"Again we are honored that you all came," Dumbledore said while walking briskly toward his office.

"No problem," Spike said. "Was that quote right?"

"Oh, I was afraid that it might not be enough. Willow can be so modest sometimes. I can increase it by half, but doubling might be a little much."

Spike was not meaning that at all, but he decided it was foolish to look the gift horse in the mouth. "Sounds good," he nodded.

"Excellent," he said opening the door to his office. "You won’t remember much more of this conversation I warn, but I will explain first thing in the morning. I request you join me for breakfast."

As Spike stepped in and began to come the door his final words before the door snapped shut were. "What do ya mean? Oi there mister, don’t point that thing at me. What are ya saying?" Then as the clanked shut, a vampire’s body thudded to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

An hour later, Spike awoke in his bed. Buffy was in there, changing into her pajamas. "Get some sleep," Buffy said coming over and kissing her husband. "Dumbledore said that you agreed to have breakfast with him in the morning. That means getting up early."

"What the hell?" Spike said sitting up and rubbing his throbbing skull. "How did I…"

"What? I figure you opened your mouth and said something along the lines of sure. He said you talked him into more money. You were probably just agreeing with everything he said."

"No," Spike said adamantly shaking his head. "Not that. Here. How did I get here? I was in his office an’—" He stopped himself abruptly as he remembered the end of the conversation.

"You won’t remember much more of this conversation I warn, but I will explain first thing in the morning. I request you join me for breakfast."

"Spike?" Buffy asked, concerned with her husband’s current temperament. "Is everything OK?"

"Yeah," Spike said distracted before turning to his wife and giving her a smooch. "Just the jet-lag setting in. Time for some sleep is all."

"Good," Buffy agreed with a yawn. "I’m more than ready." She crawled into bed next to her husband, tugging at his duster and shoes. Spike took the hint and got up long enough to take his clothes off and crawl back into the bed. Both were asleep in minutes.

*~*~*

Kelly gave Rosie a bath and was French braiding her hair as her husband laid on the bed next to them. "I hope you two are having fun," Zack drawled sleepily.

"Go to sleep, Zack," Kelly urged with a smile. "We’ll be joining you in a minute."

"Sleepy time," Rosie yawned. She giggled as her dad followed suit.

"I think you’re right, little genius," Zack said kissing her on the nose and shaking her foot before getting up and going to his own bed. "We better get lots of sleep because we need to get up early in the morning and start working on the show. Are you two going to help?"

"Of course," Kelly said. "Don’t nod, Rosie. I’m not through with the braid yet. You’ll have really curly hair in the morning."

"Yes, Mommy. And, yes, Daddy. Can I be in the show?"

"We’ll see if there is anything for you to do. Hey," Zack said rolling over and smiling at his wife and daughter. "I’ve got the perfect job for you. You wanna be manager?"

"What’s a mananer?"

"Well, I think a mananer might deal with making sure you don’t talk back to your parents, but a manager is in charge of the band. You can make sure that everyone is doing their job."

"OK, but what if they don’t?"

"You come get your security….me and Uncle Spike. We’ll make sure to enforce the law of Rosie-Land."

"All done," Kelly said putting the tie at the end of her daughter’s blond strands. "Now Daddy, say goodnight and hush up."

"Yes, Mom. Night sweetie," he said coming over and giving his girl a hug and kiss goodnight.

Kelly then tucked Rosie in and got everything settled in the room before snuggling up with her husband. The room fell asleep as soon as the lights were all turned out.

The room slumbered until about 2:30 in the morning. Rosie woke up with a small yelp, but both parents were too tired to take notice. She stared at the ceiling for a number of minutes trying to make sense of the images flashing in her mind. She looked over to her sleeping parents to make sure they were still dozing.

She crawled out of bed and slipped on the tiger slippers Dawn had bought her for her birthday. She almost got to the door before she remembered her teddy bear all alone in a big new bed. She dashed back and snatched her prized possession in her arms before creeping out in the hall. She looked both ways before scampering across the hall and opening the door and entering the room.

She trembled as she approached the bed. A part of her was more terrified than she ever was before. The dream she had was more real than any she ever had. The strangeness of the events also had a feeling that it was more than a simple nightmare about demons under her bed or in her closet. She walked over and stared at Spike as he slumbered.

It took Spike several minutes before he woke to the smell of fear. He inhaled deeply with his eyes still closed. He did not know who was in his presence but a secret part of him always enjoyed the aroma. His next breath changed that when her recognized the scent in the room. "Rosie," he said rolling onto his side and eyes flying open. "What it’s it darling?"

He didn’t understand what the child muttered next, but he could tell she was petrified. He leaned over and picked her up. "What, Sweet Pea? You have to speak it louder than that. Vampire hearing doesn’t mean I understand it all."

The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Fear filled her eyes like Spike had never seen. "Was it a bad dream?"

Rosie paused a moment while looking into his eyes. Her terror didn’t subside, but she slowly shrugged. Then she said in a barely audible whimper, "Are you really gonna hurt us?"

Spike went still and paler than ever before. It took him a moment before he could speak. Finally he chocked out, "What?"

The girl’s voice was slightly louder, but she was still trembling. "Are you going to hurt us? Hurt me? Momma and Daddy? All of us?"

"Good God," Spike gasped, clutching her. "Why would you say that, Pumpkin?" He demanded, on the verge of tears. "Was that your nightmare?"

"I saw it," the girl said in her strongest voice yet.

Spike almost dropped her on the floor, but caught himself. "Saw it?"

"It was more than a dream. It was real," her trembling eased, but the pure fear in her gaze was ripping him to pieces inside. "You were bad. You were hurting us," then she quietly added in an ashamed voice, "And me."

"More’n a dream? What do you mean?" Spike was desperate to know what the child was getting at. From the very first words she spoke of it being more than a nightmare, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that her declaration of ‘I saw it’ was no accidental choice of words.

"Like it’s gonna happen. Just don’t. Don’t hurt us, Uncle Spike," The girl began to sob. Spike didn’t want to wake his wife so he quickly carried the girl into the bathroom where he flipped on the light. He sunk to the floor as soon as the door was shut and held the child with all his heart.

"I won’t ever hurt you. I won’," Spike said before breaking down and releasing his long pent up sobs. The two clung to each other like the end of the world was approaching until their tears mingled into one long stream. "I won’… I can’t," was all the words spoken for the rest of the night.

No one would ever know how long the two spent sprawled across the bathroom floor, but eventually Rosie fell asleep in her uncle’s weeping arms. Spike kissed her dozens of times, even after he knew that she had returned to the world of slumber. He held her against him as he rested his head against the door.

In his mind, only minutes passed before he smelt the sunrise approaching. He looked down at his dreaming Rosie, and stood up with her in his arms. He went over and grabbed a rag to gently wash her tear stained cheeks. Then, ever so quietly, he went and placed the child back into her own bed.

As soon as he shut the door to his best friend’s room, he crept back to stare at his peacefully sleeping wife. He snatched his cigarettes up of the table and quietly shut the bedroom door behind him. The pressure was building up inside of him and he knew he couldn’t contain it much longer.

He ran down the hall and down the stairs. He didn’t know where he was going but he had to get out. He found a door that led outdoors and ran through it before his emotions burst. He made it to the middle of a garden before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He dropped to his knees and released a primal wail. He screamed to God. He screamed to Satan. He screamed to the sky, and he screamed to the demon inside of himself. None could answer his questions or comfort his fears. So as the sun began to rise over him and the English countryside, he sat on the ground and lit a cigarette.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. It should have been hours. It should have been years. All he knew was that he was running out of cigarettes, and he couldn’t stand for that. No, no. Gotta have ‘em bloody smokes. Had to have something to keep him preoccupied as his mind danced around the endless possibilities that merited continual existence. Given the opportunity, he couldn’t determine if he would prefer time to leap back or forward, if he would rather condemn the memory from subsistence or find out why…oh God, why the child he adored would ever…

There was honesty there. What had been said was not of Rosie’s imagination; it was the truth. The plainest, most painstaking truth he had ever witnessed. Given the span of centuries—tasting blood and ripping families apart, driving stakes into the heads of those wankers who made fun of his poetry and stalking little girls hiding in coal bins. Never had he imagined himself here. Never had the thought of what he could do petrify him to the very core of his existence. Never had he wanted to tear the demon from his insides, damn the consequences. It could be faux, she could be wrong, but the collateral was simply too robust.

He was William the Fucking Bloody. He reveled in the taste of blood. He didn’t care a piss about the people he hurt. He had savored the lives of two slayers, waved their existences before them before ripping them away. He had bragged about it. He had gotten off on it. He had held girls no larger than Rosie in his hands and he had…

Oh God. He was crying again. Bugger the soul; the conscience was there. For all the evil in the world, the thought simply had no standing. The child had never looked at him the way she looked at him tonight. Like he was a killer. Like he was a monster. Like he was…something to fear.

Like he would hurt her.

Hurt her. Hurt Kelly. Hurt Zack.

Hurt Buffy.

"No…" His voice was raw and hoarse from screaming, eyes swollen from sobbing. As though he had lamented the life of everyone he had ever encountered, every tearful gaze that had known his demon as the last thing they ever saw. That part of him that he had abandoned—left behind. The thing that Rosie was never supposed to see.

That Buffy…the Slayer. His Slayer. His entire reason for…

And the others. Kelly, his surrogate sister. Zack, his unlikely best friend. Hell, even Giles and Xander and Anya and ohh god, the list went on and on and on. Everyone. Half a dozen strangers he would feel bad about killing. A faceless chit trying to catch a bus on the way home from the late night shift at the local Cineplex. The kindly old man handing out religious brochures at the corner of East and Ninth.

The Scourge of Europe. Someone’s idea of a joke.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Those wonderful hazel orbs of life and wisdom beyond her years. As though she had already walked the trespasses of the earth and was simply waiting for another go. She had never looked at him with any emotion other than love and elated joy. He couldn’t bear it if things changed now.

"Are you really gonna hurt us?"

The demon. The call for blood. The same that he had ignored for years now. Sleeping alongside the woman who should be his enemy. Chatting up Zack at Willy’s as though it was natural that a vampire made conversation with his potential meal. As though he were…human.

He was too humanized to be a monster.

"Are you really gonna hurt us?"

What had she seen? What had she seen that would ever make her ask such a question? And how real was it? What…

A secondary flash. "You won’t remember much more of this conversation…"

"Are you really gonna hurt us?"

"…but I will explain first thing in the morning."

The demon. Raging. Out of control. So far out of…

"Are you really gonna hurt us?"

Raging. Ripping through. The metallic taste of blood against the tongue. Good blood. Human blood. He had not forgotten the flavor. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, every morning batch of pig’s essence carried something of the similar tang. It occasionally annoyed him that he had become so domesticated. So frivolously whipped. So…

And then Buffy would smile at him, and his world made sense. Rosie would run into his arms, and he had purpose. Kelly would trust him, and there was meaning. And Zack…his first friendship in over a century, long lasted and founded completely on trust without connotations with jealousy or outrage. No worries. No…

"Are you really gonna hurt us?"

No. He didn’t care what the girl thought she saw. He didn’t care what crazy notion was being entertained in her small, four-year old head. There was no way he would hurt them. If not the kindly old man he didn’t care about, then most certainly not his family. His true family. The only family he had really known. Really…

"…but I will explain first thing in the morning."

Explain. Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew something about this. He bloody well had to. That settled it. Spike resolved himself to go to the old wizard first thing—he wanted to go now, but knew if he stayed away too long, Buffy would recognize his absence, and he didn’t want to worry her.

Not when he was worried enough for the both of them.

*~*~*

Morning came and yet he held himself. Vampires were not supposed to know wake at the crack of dawn, and even if he was adjusting to the new time change, there was enough jet-lag from the flight to make up for excess fatigue. Spike lay docile, unmoving but unable to sleep. His eyes were fixed eternally at the fading cracks in the ceiling, wondering absently why some wonky craftsman hadn’t mojo’ed the room to perfection. Perhaps the old wizard thought the wear-and-tear added character. That seemed likely. Hogwarts was bursting with character—so much that it extended to the very rooftops.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Spike sighed heavily and hazarded a glance at his sleeping wife, smiling sadly at the picture she presented. In his absence, she had snuggled contentedly around one of the generously fluffy goose-down pillows, and was nestled against it like a lover. He knew the position well; had often awaken held in such an embrace, and while the comfort of her arms was a luxury he could well use at the moment, she looked much too peaceful to be disturbed.

She was the Slayer—his Slayer. Through time and trial, he had somehow been fortunate enough to wind up the person she chose to spend the eternity of her unlife with. The marks on her neck—the claim they had shared so long ago—still gave him those butterflies conjured by disbelief. The Slayer and her perfection. Her light. Her warmth. Warmth where vampires were not supposed to be warm. She symbolized everything he was supposed to hate, everything he was supposed to destroy, and he couldn’t love her more than he did with every wake.

A small smile tickled his lips, humorless in nature but no less pressed for the everlasting awe that touched his fingertips when he felt that she was indeed corporeal. Spike inhaled deeply and turned onto his side, unable to keep himself from running a hand up her arm. It wouldn’t wake her, he knew; his Slayer was a sound, heavy sleeper. Through life, she had known many nights where rest proved an impossibility, and their life together was a pressed effort to make up for every second of exhaustion that she did not get to relieve. Spike encouraged her sleep almost as much as he encouraged their more lively activities, simply because he knew that she needed it. She needed rest more than anything, and they had an eternity to explore the other.

In her own time, Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, and he watched as she battled sleep away. The hazed glance of tiredness dimmed when she saw him lying there, and a low, secretive smile spread across her face. "Morning."

"Morning."

"Is it actually morning?"

He grinned. Many wakings knew the late afternoon in Sunnydale—actual mornings were a different story. "Yeah, love," he replied softly. "If you can imagine that."

"Wow. There’s a first." Buffy sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "We haven’t missed breakfast, have we?"

"No. I don’t think anyone’s up and about just yet."

"You mean we’re actually early?"

He spared her a soft grin. "Yeah. It’s the English air, kitten. Does things to you."

"I’ll say." She leaned forward to nibble playfully at his lips. "So…how long do we have?"

Ah, the post-wake celebratory shag. Neither knew exactly what they were celebrating, but wagered it had something to do with seeing the morn of a new day. It was his favorite part of waking up.

Except today. As he drank in the taste of her, his eyes flashed back to the picture presented by his godchild. Dressed in her nightie, holding her stuffed animal, swollen eyes demanding him if he…

"Spike?"

"Mmmm?"

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

That was bloody stupid. Buffy arched an eyebrow. She always knew when he was lying. Spike sighed and buried his head in a mountain of pillows, closing his eyes tightly. And there she was again. Asking the same dreaded, "Are you really gonna hurt us?" in a small voice that had all the power in the world. He would break on command if she asked it of him.

Buffy’s eyes were wide with concern when he summoned the courage to look at her. She needed to know. He needed to tell her. Secrets were of the bad, especially if said secrets were shrouded in mystery. Perhaps she would make some sense out of it. Perhaps…

Bugger the ‘perhaps.’ She needed to know.

Spike rumbled another long sigh and leaned inward, stealing a soft kiss from her lips. "You know I love you, right?"

It was heartbreaking. She gave him a look that screamed both <insert big DUH here> and Oh God, this is gonna be bad. Please don’t hurt me. You can hurt me so much. Please… It amazed him constantly…how much power she left in his possession. How much potency for hurt she gave him without realizing it. "Y-yes…" she agreed, not betraying her bewilderment. "And I love you. Point of fact, we—"

"And you know ‘d never, ever hurt you." He waited for her eyes to widen with wonder before venturing to steal another kiss. Nights like the one he had just served as wonderful reminders to rejoice in what he had as often as possible. It echoed subtlety that all could be—would be, if the PTB willed it so—taken away from him. When she didn’t answer right away (for shock rather than second-guessing) he felt the need to press the issue. "You know ‘d rather stake myself than…ohh god, tell me you know, Buffy. Tell me—"

A finger pressed against his lips, and she gently shushed him. "Yes. I know. I really, really know."

The platinum vampire closed his eyes and heaved another breath, forehead coming to rest against hers. "’d never…"

"Spike…what brought this on? Something’s going on and you’re not telling me."

It was all the leniency he needed, and the entire story was there on the tip of his tongue. How Rosie had come to see him in the middle of the night. How she had looked at him with fear. How she had asked if he would ever again be what he was meant for. How they had held each other, crying and rocking until the child was asleep again. How he had watched the sunrise. How he had wanted to carve the demon out of him, even if it meant going with it, rather than see that look in his girl’s eyes once more.

Every flash was bad enough. If she ever looked at him like that again, it might well do him in.

It was all there. All on the tip of his tongue. All ready and waiting to come out.

And yet his words were far from that brink of explanation. He found himself inwardly cringing even as he spoke. "Bad dream," he murmured. "Bloody bad dream. Thought that…the monster…me. Had to…"

Well, that was partially true. Only the dream hadn’t been his. And it hadn’t been a dream. Nevertheless, this seemed to satisfy the Slayer. She offered him a poignant smile and touched her lips to his. "Sweetie, I know what you are," she said. "I know you’re…I know. I’ve seen it. But guess what: I’m over it. You’re so much more than even you give yourself credit for. You try harder than anyone I’ve ever known—human or demon. Whatever the…I just know, okay?"

God, she sounded so sure when he was so unsure. It only made him feel worse.

"Is that why you were gone?"

"Huh?"

"I woke up about an hour ago and you were all with the awayness."

Oh. Spike forced a smile to his face and nodded in concession. "Yeah. Just…it startled me, s’all. I haven’t had a dream that bloody realistic…" He shuddered visibly and melted into her embrace. "I couldn’t stand it if you…if you…"

She stroked his hair soothingly. "I know."

And she did. Only she didn’t. Because she didn’t know the truth. Not the whole truth. He had kept that from her when he meant to tell her otherwise.

Something bloody bizarre was going on around here. But for the first time since Rosie disturbed his slumber, he pushed it to the recesses of his conscious. Not with the Slayer’s touch becoming more intimate than soothing. Not with the familiar feel of her body against his. Not for anything in the world. He needed to know that she was real, she was here, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

Bugger the rest. He wanted the morning with his lady.

*~*~*

Unfortunately, sex could not drive priorities from even the most utilitarian conscious. What comfort she had to offer, he took with love and hope and everything else a soulless thing could muster, but it was the drive for answers that fueled his plight. When finally the guest floor began to stir with activity, he and the Slayer had dressed, snogged, and said their goodbyes as the rest of the gang headed for the Great Hall.

Spike almost forbade himself from looking at Rosie as she disappeared with her parents, but he couldn’t deny the child. It was kin to denying himself. When he saw the conflict had at least calmed in her eyes, he felt himself surge in relief. There was love there. Love and devotion, but worry just the same.

He mouthed that he loved her and she smiled at him. And then they were gone.

And he was off to find answers.

By the time he reached Dumbledore’s private chambers (Professor McGonagall had to utter the password for him, as the memory hex had efficiently wiped out any recollection of anything beyond the instructions on how he would remember nothing), he was so piss-ant angry that it was all he could do not to shove the old sod against his desk, chip or not. Though he was desperately lacking in proof and had no tangible reason to be livid with the headmaster, there was no doubt in his mind that the man had had some pull on the events that concluded his restless night.

Thus, if he could not express himself meaningfully—through violence—he would settle for rage. With a climactic entrance, he slammed the door shut, annoyed when the old bugger barely glanced up from his paperwork, much less flinched.

"Ah, William," Dumbledore said after he finished writing whatever it was that he was writing. "I’m glad that you could make it."

Spike prowled forward, eying the Phoenix warily. Bloody typical bird for a wizard to own.

"I see you have taken a liking to Fawks."

"Bugger Fawks."

"Or perhaps not."

"I’m not here for bloody crumpets and tea, right? I want answers."

Dumbledore nodded, rising to his feet. "I figured as much." They shared a long look before the old man began to circumnavigate his desk. "Perhaps some blood? You seemed to like what—"

A low warning growl sounded through the vampire’s throat, but again, the wizard did not react. That was getting annoying. "I’m not hungry," he snarled. "And you’re gonna tell me what the bleeding hell it was that you did, or I’m gonna get angry."

Bah. Bruce Banner moment. Was it possible that he had been hanging out with Xander too much?

Bloody unlikely.

"Of course," Dumbledore acquiesced, moving again to take a seat. "I trust you were visited by Rosie last night."

Spike’s eyes widened. It was one thing to theorize; it was something else entirely for said theory to be partially confessed. "You," he said lowly. "You put that bloody image into my girl’s—"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Stop. I did no such thing, though I do believe that her arriving at Hogwarts has sped up the intensity of her foresight."

"Her what?"

"Rosie, as you may or may not have guessed, has been blessed with the sight." He waited a minute to allow that knowledge to sink in. "She is a seer, you see. She has been since birth. Oh, her visions have come and gone, usually without the suffering of a full-blown attack. It is so rare to find an authentic seer. Professor Treelawny would be positively pea-green with envy to meet her."

"Get. To. The. Bloody. Point." Spike was rapidly losing his patience. "Was what the girl saw true?"

"It might be," Dumbledore replied honestly. "I don’t know what she saw. A seer’s gift can bring about the influence of many things, William. Whatever it was that dear Rosie saw…I cannot say whether or not it will come to pass. It depends verily on what happens here, and what you decide to do with the gift that I have given you."

Okay. Now the old man was talking ruddy nonsense. He was off his rocker. "Gift?"

"The chip, you see. I had removed your chip."

Be kind, rewind.

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

Dumbledore cocked his head curiously to the side. "You are not pleased?"

"PLEASED? You thought I’d be pleased with this?! You’re nuts! Engine’s running but there’s no one behind the bloody wheel. Why on earth would I be pleased with—"

"Have you not campaigned for the chip’s removal ever since it was implanted in your head five years ago?"

"You need to get your hardware updated, mate," Spike growled contemptuously. "I’m not on that side, anymore. Haven’t been for—"

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "And now is your chance to prove it."

Another long, harsh stare. "Are you completely off your bird?"

"You are a vampire."

"Wow. Keen perception y’got going there, gramps. Now tell me, who’s gonna win the Superbowl?"

"And you were handicapped by technology. You were forced to become something you were not. And then something remarkable happened." Dumbledore paused dramatically and glanced up, as though expecting him to say something. When he did not, the old wizard merely shrugged and continued, as though it didn’t matter either way. "In being forced to become something that was against your nature, it became your nature. What you do now is as natural to you as killing was. Do you wish to contest this?"

No reply. Dumbledore took that as sign to continue.

"You are a vampire, and you love the Slayer. She who is destined to kill your kind. You exhibit more humanly love than even some humans can aspire to. And yet you hold yourself back. You tell yourself it is simply because of the chip. Because of that which you were initially forced to become." The old man smiled kindly at him. "And yet, the chip is not forever. It would have failed you someday. It would have withered and short-circuited as mortal creations are destined to. And you would have been faced with the same question that haunts you at every wake, whether or not your conscious decides to admit it."

"And wha’s that?"

"‘Is today the day I wake up?’" At the bright flash of fear that crossed the vampire’s eyes, the wizard’s smile only grew. Candor. Kind. "You have become reliant on the idea that the chip is all that makes you what you are. That—"

"The chip’s not about me, mate," Spike snarled. "’S not. I bloody well know that. Think I’m worried that I’ll go out and have myself a bloody bloodbath. Well, I’m not. ‘Cause I know what I’m made of. I got stones and I know where they belong. It’s…"

A long, uncomfortable pause. He really wanted a cigarette.

"It’s them, isn’t it?" Dumbledore asked softly. "You worry that Buffy will leave you if she believes you dangerous. That you will lose the friendship you have worked so hard to keep. That everything you made yourself for will vanish in the blink of an eye. You have so little faith in them that you really think they would—"

"Bugger that! I’ve got plenty of faith. I—"

"Then why is there fear behind your eyes?"

Spike paused and glanced down. Too angry to look at him, too ashamed to acknowledge the truth. And yet there was one consistency. One merit to make his presence worthwhile. One plea to issue before all was lost. "Put it back in."

"What?"

"You heard me. Put the bloody chip back in."

"Even if I did that, it wouldn’t last."

"I know it bloody wouldn’t last! Does it look like I care? I’m not ready for this, you stupid git. I can’t—"

"Is it you who is unready?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically. "Or them?"

"STOP WITH YOUR BLOODY RIDDLES!" God, he was a second away from tears and bugger if he let the old wanker see him cry. See what fear produced from a creature that was supposed to invoke it, not express it. "I don’t give a bleeding fuck over who is and who isn’t ready. I want the chip! You took wha’s mine, now bloody well give it back!"

The Cockney’s cries did not escape the small room: they sank into the walls and reverberated as far as sound would carry, but did not escape.

"I cannot," Dumbledore said softly.

"Yes you sodding can."

"My mission is to help lost souls find their path, William. This would impede your journey. Not help."

"I don’t have a bloody soul! How can it be lost?"

The wizard offered a secretive smile. "Don’t you?"

"Argh!" That was it. The final straw. In a lasting rage of motion, Spike lost control and felt himself burst into game face. The roar that tore through his throat had put many in their place over the years, and yet the old man still refused to flinch. "They’re gonna have your hide for this," he said lowly, fighting for control. Knowing now that attacking the git would be as painless as it would be fun made for little incentive to follow the voice that said it was wrong, and yet he somehow obliged.

Dumbledore savored a long sigh. "I imagine so," he agreed. "Which is why they won’t know. Not from your mouth. You cannot run from your problems, Spike, nor can you hide behind those you have chosen to love and hope that all ends for the best. You have been given a chance to prove yourself. To Buffy. To Rosie. To the world. An uncaged vampire, willfully doing the right thing." He smiled simply. "I have faith that you will succeed."

The man’s indifference really was going to get him killed someday. But not now. Not today. Not in this office. With a sigh of weary defeat, Spike’s features melted back into his human façade, though his scowl refused to lessen. He rumbled a sound of complaint and reached for his cigarettes before recalling that the fresh pack was still in the room. Of bloody course.

The chip. Oh God. Rosie’s vision. Oh God.

No, no, no, no. It won’t happen. It’ll never happen. I bloody well won’t let it.

"You can’t just muck with people’s lives like this," Spike informed Dumbledore slowly. "If the chip was meant to go out, it would’ve. And I woulda dealed then."

"The chip’s time is now. Your time is now."

"I want a bloody refund!" When the wizard refused to offer any reply other than the knowing look in his eyes, Spike furrowed in defeat and marched wearily back to the door. There would be no gratification here. No penance. Nothing. "Fine," he said softly. "Y’old sod. We’ll play it your way. Just don’t come crying to me when the Slayer finds out and tears your bloody head off."

That was it. He was done. A blur of movement and the vampire slammed the door shut, moving for a defeated retreat to the Great Hall where his family awaited.

Dumbledore watched him go with a pensive look on his face, then returned to his paperwork.

*~*~*

When Spike walked into the Great Hall, he wasn’t sure what he expected entirely, but it wasn’t the sight he got. There was one table set up in the corner that had a few people eating breakfast, while Giles of course sat with his nose in research. Others were scattered about mulling over costumes, scenes, props, and dance moves. As he looked at the clock, it wasn’t past 9:30, but everyone was awake and there. Some still in pajamas, but everyone busy. Despite all the inner turmoil he was facing, he had to smile at the similarity it had to his best friend’s favorite new musical.

"I can’t alter this," Lisa snapped as she stood over at the costume rack. "I can take fabric off, but I can’t put in back on."

"But…but, they’re black," Zack said. He was carrying a clipboard in hand and had a group surrounding his waiting for a moment of time. Spike could tell that he hadn’t showered since his little scene with his wife last night, and that he was still wearing his favorite set of Bayside sweats.

"No shit," Lisa stammered sarcastically, turning around and looking at the other tights on the rack. "Here. These will fit."

"They’re…"

"Violet," Lisa supplied.

"I was going to say gay, but violet tights does sum it up." He looked up and saw Spike. "Thank God," he sighed with relief. "I thought you weren’t ever going to stop chatting with old Dumbledore. You can help me now, since you are the leader."

"What does the leader do?" The vampire asked. The stress of the situation was already getting to him. He leaned over and whispered in Zack’s ear. "Tell me you have a smoke."

Zack gave his a sympathetic nod and looked to see that Kelly and Buffy were still distracted going over song assignments. He reached in and pulled out his pack and tossed him a lighter before stepping in the corner and placing a cigarette between his own lips. "Have to make sure that costumes work when Kel and Buf figure out who’s singing. Gotta make sure set construction is working out. I put Xander in charge of the builders."

"Speaking of that. Who the bloody hell are all these other blokes?" Spike said pointing at all the extra people in the Hall besides for the gang.

Zack shrugged before responding. "Say that Dumbledore asked them to come in and help set up. Some are building sets, while others are helping Lisa in costumes. Others might be used as back-up dancers during the show."

Spike smirked at his pal’s control of the situation. He took another long drag before saying, "Well, what else needs to be done?"

"Basically, we need to start working on some of the numbers. We can’t do them all, so the girls are setting up preliminary groups to go over and rehearse some of the potential songs. We’ll see how that works out and then you and I can decide what makes the final cut. Well…. I guess we better let the group decide as a whole. We don’t wanna make them feel really out of the loop."

"Good God, Zangy," Spike said in bewilderment. "You are the leader. Don’t know what you need me for when you got it all set up nicely."

"Are you kidding? You’re my best friend and Bing Crosby. I’m going to bugger it all up in a minute and I’ll need a buddy to come and help me out."

"I thought I was your buddy?" Slater said strolling over. "And when I was, I didn’t have you going around starting bad habits," he said taking the smoking stick from between Zack’s lips and flicking it to the ground.

"Yeah you did. Senior year. Wrecked my dad’s car after you and your stupid football friends got me to drink," Zack said. "But that’s not the point. Spike’s my new pal. Pals don’t let pals sleep with their gals."

Spike couldn’t do anything but laugh at the quirky remark. Slater’s comment quickly ceased the humor. "Who’s to say that he isn’t? Him and the missus do spend a lot of time together, don’t they? And he likes to always be playing the role of Daddy when you aren’t around. I watch. Sometimes he does it when you are."

Before Spike could even finish his growl, Zack had knocked Slater one that sent him straight to the ground. Anger filled the blond man’s eyes, but a small twinge of worry and trepidation could be seen for a flash after Slater’s words were spoken. Zack silently cursed himself as he kicked Slater’s body on the ground. With all the secrets going on with his marriage, that was one of his most irrational thoughts and biggest fears. Zack could kill himself for playing right into Slater’s conniving hand, but it implanted the seed of doubt further into his already budding brain.

"Little touchy there, Zangy?" Spike said. He knew that he had to calm the man down or their performance plans would get nowhere. He couldn’t focus on this today, so he needed Zack’s mind to do the real work.

"Yeah," Zack groaned. He looked up to see everyone staring at them. "Get back to work. There’s no show now!" He yelled to the staring workers. He smiled to himself as he thought about how much good hiding in the corner did. "So how’s your morning going?" he asked Spike as they watched Slater get up and crawl away.

"Just peachy," Spike drawled. "And you?"

"Oh, besides the overwhelming stress of making this work, perfect."

They turned and looked each other in the eyes. They both saw the pain and confusion in each other’s eyes. Both wanted to help the other and have their own fears quelled, but both were too afraid to open their mouths and speak. Just when they might be brave enough to tell their closest friend that there was trouble in paradise, the moment ended.

"Zack," Willow said walking over and placing a hand on both men’s shoulders. They both snapped back to reality. "Zack?"

"Yeah," he said slowing as his mind cleared.

"I called your name a million times, but Kelly says that it’s time for rehearsal on song 3-A."

"Sure," Zack said picking up his clipboard and pulling a few sheets off and handing them to Spike. "Here ya go. There’s some songs that you can look over and consult the girls over."

"Thanks," the vampire said dryly. "Nothing like working to make the day better."

"Yup," Zack agreed as he began to walk off. He turned around and looked back at Spike. "By the way, Pigtails is looking for her daily morning dose of Uncle Spike. She’s been asking for you since the moment she woke up. You better go make my daughter a happy girl. And if she asks, she the manager."

"Got it," Spike said with a nod. "Manager and make her happy." There wasn’t as much happiness in his countenance as there usually was when Rosie was in question.

Zack simply took it as Spike was getting into his moneymaking mode. He turned back forward and was gone.

As soon as the Cockney made his way across the floor, he caught eye of the little girl who came to him last night, and he was filled with fear all over again.

"She is a seer, you see. She has been since birth. Oh, her visions have come and gone, usually without the suffering of a full-blown attack."

His little girl was born on the Hellmouth, so of course she would have some wonky dealings. They were all stupid to have thought she’d come off "normal". But learning this was still a shock to his already frazzled system.

Rosie was standing in between Buffy and Kelly. Both were looking over costumes with Lisa and had a tentative hand on her, but as soon as Lisa showed them a set of pink tutus, they clutched their sides in hysterics and Rosie was free. She took no time in her escape plan and was running off in a minute.

"I don’t know what she saw. A seer’s gift can bring about the influence of many things, William. Whatever it was that dear Rosie saw…I cannot say whether or not it will come to pass. It depends verily on what happens here, and what you decide to do with the gift that I have given you."

His eyes followed the girl until he saw her leave the room. He then started to stealthily saunter until he caught up with her in the hallway. He knew what she saw and he could only imagine what might be done with Dumbledore’s so-called gift.

"Uncle Spike!" Rosie said when she turned around and recognized the face. Spike was prepared for her to be awkward or scared with him, but he was more than pleased when she ran to him without hesitation. "I looked for you all morning."

"I had… some business. Y’know how much work me and your pap have going now." He was the one awkward. He could kick himself.

"I’m sorry about last night. I was having bad dreams and I didn’t mean to—"

"Hush," Spike said kissing her cheek. "It was more’n that, and we know it. Don’t worry though. Now that we know ‘bout it, we’ll beat it. Right?"

"Right," the girl said enthusiastically. His strong assuring answers were exactly what she needed to calm her fears. Hearing her uncle tell her everything was going to be all right was all she needed. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "We’ll fight that evil."

"You betcha," he said. "Now let’s get to work." He walked back into the Hall carrying her in his arms. "So, as manager, do you know what we’re doing?" He asked Rosie as they looked around at all the people scurrying about. When she shook her head, he whispered, "Me neither." Just then, he caught sight of Xander and a group of builders chatting as they stood sipping coffee over their morning’s progress. "Get to work," Spike snapped. "Don’t need the lot of you wankers slacking off."

"What?" Xander scoffed. "Us? We’ve been working since 7AM. You, on the other hand, are walking about doing nothing at all but carrying a little kid." He then walked over. "Morning, Rosie." He said leaning in and plopping her a kiss on the top of the head.

"Morning, Xander," Rosie giggled. "Are you having fun?"

"E’s not supposed to have fun. Harris’s the hired help, Rosie. We don’t converse with those people." Then he added. "Don’t kiss ’er. Maybe she didn’t wanna Stay Puft kiss."

"Wow," Xander said taking a step back with his hands in the air. "Somebody woke up extra cheerful this morning."

"I like Xander kisses," Rosie said innocently. This earned a laugh from Xander and a frown from her uncle.

"Well… this set needs work. Don’t muck it up more’n you have. Looks positively awful," Spike said as he walked off. "Get back to work."

Over his shoulder, Rosie called, "Bye Xander. Keep up the good work."

"Kiss up," Spike scolded the girl. The lack of conviction in his voice caused her to look up at him with her big twinkling eyes and cackle. "Glad you’re having fun making me look like a poof." He was enjoying the girl’s idea of forgetting last night happened. He knew it was impossible, but for the moment, everything was fine again.

"Well, I am the mananer," Rosie said scrunching up her face to get the word out right, but failing. "Daddy said so."

"Well, if he said so, then I’ll let it slide this once. Speaking you your pap, let’s find him and figure out what’s going on."


	9. Chapter 9

"Have you seen Zack?" Willow asked her boyfriend.

"I think he was supposed to be rehearsing a dance number."

"I hope it isn’t the Choreography number. I want to see that with my own eyes. Plus I want to know who they found to do the random part."

Oz merely shrugged. He looked at his girlfriend surrounded by various forms and papers and had to smile. While Zack and Spike were in charge of the music, Willow was coordinating everything else to make Snape’s party a success. Dumbledore had specifically requested that she refrain from using any magic to accomplish this though, because of the large influx of Muggles on the premises. Besides the fact that many of her friends were still a bit uneasy with the idea that Willow had once taken over the world, others that he employed, didn’t fully know the purpose of Hogwarts.

"Can you help me find the stapler?" Willow asked.

As Oz searched around he said, "I just want you to know that I’m very proud of you for not using your magic. I know that it would probably be quite tempting." Then he handed her the contraption in question. "Your determination just makes me love you even more."

The Witch didn’t even look up from her work as she said absently, "I love you too, Tara."

*~*~*

Spike wandered around the Great Hall for a while before deciding to branch out his search for Zack to the various rooms surrounding the Hall. Currently, they were all being used to rehearse or storage. He found one that was storing their instruments and had to laugh at the prospect of them actually being used on this gig.

Though no room proved to be worth staying, he finally approached one that seemed at have familiar music coming through. As he went to open the door, it stopped after moving no more than five inches. Before he could push harder, a familiar face popped into the doorway. "Kelly?" Spike said a little astonished.

Kelly merely laughed. "You aren’t going to believe this," She said bringing her finger to her lips and opening the door to let them in.

She was right. After overcoming his initial shock of seeing Zack dancing there in purple tights surrounded by Dawn and five other faces that he hadn’t before seen, he realized that he recognized the tune.

"Heps, who did steps," Zack sang out soulfully. "That would stop the show in days that used to be."

"Good god," Spike muttered as he covered Rosie’s mouth to muffle her hysterics. He was tempted to lean over and cover Kelly’s too, but Giles walked in and beat him too it.

Even Giles burst out laughing though, when Buffy came down tapping in her pink dress. Spike didn’t know whether to be shocked that she was tapping around stage in the outfit, amused that he was watching the sight before his eyes, or simply turned on by the Slayer’s legs.

He watched Zack dancing awkwardly around Buffy’s taps, flinging his arms wildly in the air, and silently declared that his best friend took the award for the Biggest-Poofter-Ever award, but then he caught sight of the true winner.

He didn’t know how they did it, but Wesley flew up into the air with a resemblance to Peter Pan and a fairy. Then as soon as he hit the ground he began dancing in ways that almost put his lady to shame. But, it was Wesley! Even Giles was on the verge of collapsing from lack of air now.

No one knew whether to be amused or in awe when Buffy and Wes pulled off the dance routine in synchronization. But, when everyone began to dance around Zack as he danced goofily on the rolling platform, they knew.

When Zack, Buffy and Wes could all master the White Christmas scene of spinning around together in perfect harmony like Danny Kaye, Vera Ellen and the mystery guy, all was lost as the song ended. Everyone was at a loss of breath.

As the music ended, Zack looked up in horrification to see that more than just his wife was in the audience. "Spike," he squeaked.

This immediately brought Buffy and Wesley to attention, who were admiring Wesley’s quick gathering of all the perfect moves. "Hi, hon," She said shyly before noticing Giles standing there, laughing more than anyone had seen him do before. "Giles!"

"I can’t…stop," he cackled as Kelly escorted him to the nearest chair. "Buffy…?"

"Yeah, I know that wasn’t my shining moment as Slayer,"

"I loved it, kitten," Spike purred coming over to take her in his arms. He tried to lean in and kiss her without even a smile, but right before their lips touched, he burst into laughter.

"Wesley," Giles panted out through his hysterics.

The former Watcher looked shyly around the room. "Yes, I took a few lessons as a child."

"You picked up on that fast," Dawn admired.

"Well…. I also had a recital to White Christmas in my youth."

"You get the award," Spike said to himself as the Slayer had already pulled away from his embrace with embarrassment.

"Daddy’s wearing dress-up!" Rosie announced gleefully when Zack picked her up.

"Maybe it’s a tie," Spike admitted as he walked over to his best friend. "I was going to ask if you knew what work I should do. But if you’re just going to play ’round in drag all day, I don’t see a point if consulting you." He smiled as he noticed the extensiveness of Zack’s eye make-up. "I take ‘nough orders from dames that I don’t need to add you to the list."

"Cute," Zack snarled. "By the way, this one’s not in the show."

"All right," Spike agreed. "I don’t I could stand to see it twice. Well… actually I probably could," he admitted. "Do it again."

"No!" everyone that was just involved in the number screamed adamantly.

"It was worth a try," Spike said to Kelly with a shrug.

"Yes," Kelly agreed with giggles. "But maybe we’ll see some more fun. I was looking over the list of other musicals that Snape is requesting."

"This could be interesting," Spike said reaching for the paper.

"I don’t think so," Zack said reaching for it as well. "Put on purple tights and mascara and then you can have first dibs at the list."

"I hope everyone just was listening when Zack admitted that he had on purple tights and make-up," Dawn said with a smile.

"I’ll read it, thank you very much," Buffy walked over and took the list from Kelly while the two men were still bickering. She looked at it for a minute before saying, "Have I ever see this before?"

"What?" Zack asked.

"Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

"Dear God, Spike," Zack said in astonishment. "You’ve never shown your bird that cult classic?"

"Was quite a craze when the show was out back in the 70s. Tim Curry and fishnets made a lot of people’s day. Ding know that you hadn’t seen it, ifore. Guess we know who’s Janet."

"Wait a minute," Buffy said. "I don’t know if I want to consent to being a character before I know about what I’m getting into."

"It’ll be about as bad as your tap-dance number," Kelly admitted.

Zack snickered. "Spike should be Rocky."

"No way," Spike said. "I don’t have a tan. Maybe blond hair and incredible bod, but no tan. Zangy, sounds like a job for you."

"Did you just compliment my body?"

"Never mind. Guess I’m Rocky."

"But, who’s gonna be Frank?" Kelly asked.

"No." Was Zack’s only reply. Then he added, "I think that it should be someone who is a bit more… I don’t know. Not me."

"But our source of men with decent voices is limited," Kelly said searching in her mind. "We’ll need someone who is good-looking. And someone who can really sing. Honestly, that eliminates Josh and Ferris. Also, they have to be someone who can play the part with a straight face." Her voice trailed as she turned to see Giles sitting down looking over at them.

"What?" Giles asked when he noticed Kelly’s gaze.

"You can do it!"

"Absolutely not!" Giles said standing up. The look now upon his face was a combination of horror and disgust.

"Come on, Ripper," Spike drawled. "Bet you went to a couple of the shows back in the day. Don’t see you being a Brad either."

"No," Giles said walking toward the door.

"I’ll pay you," Zack pleaded. "I’ll give you whatever you want. Please!"

Giles merely ignored him and walked out of the room.

"What’s so bad about this Frank guy?" Buffy asked.

"Do the words Sweet Transvestite mean anything to you?" Zack said.

"Is that the one with the guys in fishnets?" Dawn asked. "I remember watching that one at Zack’s a couple years ago. Kelly told me some stories about that—"

"Well, we better get back to work," Zack interrupted.

"Wait. Wait a minute. Bit had a story to tell and I believe that it was going to be a good one. Go on, Nibblet."

"I can’t believe you told her, Kelly," Zack said, turning crimson.

"Sorry," Kelly sheepishly replied.

"Zack used to like to dress up and go to the midnight showings. Like dress up all the way. Then they would go home and—" Dawn was cut off when Zack and Kelly started loudly coughing.

"You told my sister about the kinky ways you shagged?" Buffy stammered.

"She’s old enough to know," Kelly defended.

"Nobody is old enough to bare that on their shoulders," Spike said in disbelief. "I didn’t need to know that Zangy likes to play the bird."

"It was only three times!" Zack defended. "Oh god, I didn’t play a girl it was just that I liked…I …am shutting up and this conversation didn’t take place."

"Don’t know ‘bout that. ‘Sides, Bit said this was talked if years ago. Sounds like she mighta not been quite old ‘nough yet."

"So," Kelly said coming over and hitting Spike’s arm in attempts to change the subject. Things were bad enough that Zack knew that she told, she didn’t need Buffy on her bad side too. "We better get back to work. Let’s see that the props are all ready."

Everyone was more than happy to escape from the room and put the embarrassing moment behind them. Spike, who wasn’t yet humiliated, decided to take it as far as he could. As the others went to change, he followed Kelly out of the room. "So," he whispered so Rosie couldn’t hear. "Didn’t know you had kicks like that. Did he wear the heels too? Or just the fishnets?"

Kelly blushed, but tried not to let the Cockney get the best of her. "I preferred all the leather myself. Especially when he pulled out the whips and chains."

"Oi, there Kelly," Spike laughed. "You win. Don’t wanna mess with that anymore. Afraid I might learn more ‘bout you and Zangy’s bed time than I ever wanna."

"Good," Kelly said with a smug smile of satisfaction. She leaned in to whisper again, "Will you help me get Rosie upstairs for a nap? She probably needs one before lunch."

"Sure." They walked up to the guest wing. Between Kelly and Spike, they were able to get the girl to sleep in a matter of fifteen minutes.

After Spike tucked the covers in around Rosie and gave her a little kiss, he turned to notice Kelly staring at the mirror, hands rubbing her stomach.

"Look Spike," Kelly said hands on her stomach. "You can already see it." She had her shirt pulled tight against he front, where the small swell was indeed noticeable.

"How far along is it?" Spike walking up behind her.

"According to what the doctor said a couple weeks ago when he told me the news…about four months."

"I don’t know much ‘bout all that stuff, but I think you might’ve noticed sooner."

"Not that you really need to know, but my menstruation cycles aren’t always regular."

"Oi, Kel! Again with the TMI,"

"Sorry," she said without shame. "You wanna… feel me?" She laughed at the bad connotations. "You know… your future god-child."

"Well, when you put it that way," Spike walked over behind Kelly and placed a tentative hand on her slightly swollen belly.

"You won’t be able to feel it kick yet, but you have so much extra sense, you might feel the heartbeat."

"Maybe," Spike said placing the other hand around her waist and on her stomach. "This is just amazing."

"I know. I’ve decided that as soon as we get home, I’m going to plan things up right and tell Zack the news. If everything goes right."

"That sounds like a good plan," Spike said to the reflection in the mirror, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, you just have to protect my husband even more now. I mean, if something happens to me and Zack, you and Buffy might have to alter the perfect relationship of part-time babysitters. Trust me. They aren’t always as cute when you deal with them all the time."

"Don’t worry. I’ll always be looking’ out for you and your man."

Kelly leaned back and gave Spike a soft kiss on the cheek. "I know. That’s what makes you so wonderful."

*~*~*

Zack was hoping to talk to Kelly when he got through changing. There again with the little secrets that she didn’t bother to tell him about. He was more humiliated than ever, but he was more annoyed that his wife didn’t tell him he was divulging their little intimate moments than he really was of the incident being made public.

When he asked Lisa where Kelly had gone, she had said that she had saw her, Spike and Rosie walk out of the Great Hall together. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Lately, his family had been spending more time with his best friend than with him.

He was getting that jealous feeling again and he knew he was being stupid. He figured that they were taking Rosie up for her nap and headed toward their room. Buffy told him that he shouldn’t be jealous and he knew that she was right, but he couldn’t help himself.

It was the secrets. Kelly always kept secrets from him, and he couldn’t take it. Honesty was what Buffy talked about. It was what her relationship with Spike with. It was what his own marriage lacked.

He knew that was what had him so upset. As he walked up to the door of his room, he realized that Kelly’s confidence in Spike was the only reason why he was getting jealous. Nothing more. Just the fact that Kelly felt more comfortable talking about things with anyone but him.

That was when he walked in to see Spike with his arms around his wife. Kelly was laying her head on his shoulder saying, "That’s what makes you so wonderful."

"What the Hell?!?"

Spike and Kelly glanced up, a little dazed but otherwise unmoved. It wasn’t until Spike noted the look blazing behind his friend’s eyes that his arms dropped to his sides. He had felt that way enough times to know what it meant, though he couldn’t help but chuckle at the unspoken allegation. "Zangy," he said. "We were just talking about you."

Zack stared at him disbelievingly. Kelly had moved across the room, arms protectively enwrapped around her middle. The fact that she looked more than nervous did little to alleviate the situation.

"Yeah," he agreed after a long minute. "I can see that."

"Perfectly honest, mate," Spike told him, sincerity leaking through his voice that Zack was more than hesitant to accept. After all, the man was a demon. Deception was his specialty. Nearly his bloody calling. "I was just telling your bird that I’d take care of the lot if you, even if you do act like a poofter on the weekends."

"Take care of us?"

"Little jittery," Kelly finally acknowledged, voice still shaken at the unexpected interruption. She couldn’t say if she was more startled at Zack’s sudden presence or the thought that he had been seconds away from knowing about his new child. With everything that she sensed was going on, finding out like that would have been of the bad. "Can’t really explain it. Kinda…vibes, you know? Old castle freakish vibes."

Zack offered a long, skeptical nod. "So…you decided to comfort her by…"

They paused and looked at him comically.

"Wait a tick," Spike began.

"You thought we were…" Kelly said with a frown.

They glanced to each other, and burst out laughing.

"Fuck, mate," the vampire snickered. "if I don’t have I’m MARRIED MAN: HANDS SODDING OFF’ stamped to miforehead yet, I don’t know what it’ll take. Only one bird ‘round here does it for me, and no offense to either of you…" He took a second to point at Kelly. "She’s not it. Don’t get me wrong; she’s a right catch. You are, sweetheart, but like the best if us, you’ve been caught. I don’t dabble with that sort of badness. I’m bloody faithful. Was to Dru, and both of you are more daft than you look if you think I’d mess around behind Buffy’s back."

There was a nod of acquiescence. That was at least better than nothing. "I know, Spike," his friend said softly.

Kelly had overcome her mirth and was staring at Zack in a mixture of astonishment and trepidation. The initial accusation was enough to have any girl laughing—the thought that Spike could feasibly want anyone else when he had the woman he had been pining over for years willingly in his arms—but her husband’s mistrust of her struck painfully close to the heart. Simply another sign that read he had not gotten over her previous infidelity, and would go as far as to not trust the man who had done more for either of them than any other outside force in their lives. "You…" she began slowly. "You really thought that I…that Spike would…what did you think?"

By this time, Zack was feeling more than foolish. Either because he was being an ass, or he was being incredibly had by the two people he trusted most. The look in their eyes was authentic enough: he knew Kelly and her mannerisms. He knew that she would crumple if caught in a lie. Spike was his pal, he wasn’t Slater, and he would never do anything to hurt him. Never. All more besides, the guy was completely and utterly infatuated with Buffy. He recalled telling the Slayer only a few days before that it was difficult enough to get the peroxide pest to admit it when other chicks were pleasing to the eyes; even if Spike was the type to do so, he wouldn’t move in on Kelly.

His wife, on the other hand, looked far less than innocent. It hurt him to think that he could trust the vampire more than the woman he had pledged to spend the rest of his life with. But of the two of them, she was the only one who had succumbed to betrayal. If there was something going on, perhaps it was only from her end. Perhaps Spike was an innocent victim. Perhaps he didn’t know…

Spike. Innocent victim. Funny.

Zack paused again and shook his head. This was ridiculous! It was ridiculous and he knew it. He knew it. Spike would never, Kelly would never. They both would never, and the sooner he got that through his thick skull, the better.

Bloody Slater. Running all these crazy suggestions through his head. Mucking everything up.

Yeah, that was it.

"I don’t know what I thought," he answered a long minute later. "I just…it took me by surprise is all. I’m sorry."

Spike shrugged good-naturedly and offered a grin. "’Ey. No harm, no foul. If I weren’t a married bloke, you might have something to worry about. And I know I’d be aiming for heads to roll if I walked in on Buffy doing…" His eyes distanced worriedly, as though the Slayer would be doing that, simply by suggestion. "Excuse me…" He was off the next minute, intentions perfectly clear. 

The matter was not so easily settled for Kelly. Her large brown eyes studied Zack’s hasty shifting from one leg to the next with unresolved tension. There was so much to say and not enough time to say it. All matters at hand; she knew how it had to look, walking in and seeing her in the arms of his best friend. Not exactly wine and roses for the knowledge of déjà vu. But the thought that he wasn’t over it—that he honestly expected her to betray him like that again was more than uneasy. Especially if he dragged Spike into it. Spike who would never hurt someone he cared about, regardless of his notorious marital status. 

Because Spike wasn’t Slater. If everything he and Spike had been through over the past few years hadn’t proved that in radical liberation, she didn’t know what would do it. 

"Zack?" Kelly asked softly. "Please tell me you really didn’t think…"

There was a solemn headshake and his hands came up as if to stop her from moving forward. This was too much to consider bearing. "Like I said," he retorted. "I don’t know what I thought. All I know is I walked in and you two were looking a lot more chummy than two…well…chums."

"We were hugging!"

"While you told him how wonderful he is."

"Are you saying he’s not? He’s been helping me…he’s been helping us for years! Not only with Rosie, but with everything we have to face." Kelly shook her head in exasperation. "God, you really think I’d do it again, don’t you? You really think so little of me as to make wild allegations against the two people who are least likely to hurt you than anyone else in the world!"

At that, he couldn’t help himself. There was a dubious blink and he regarded her as though she was insane. "Least likely?" he retorted incredulously. "Least bloody likely? Lest we forget who did the hurting here in the first place. Kinda hard when there’s a walking, talking reminder of it prancing up the hallways of this castle as we speak!"

Kelly’s head reeled as though she had been slapped. "So that’s what this is about?" she demanded meekly. "Slater? I’m sorry if I was supposed to take the words ‘I forgive you’ in some sort of code."

"I did forgive you. I mean I do. God, haven’t I proved that by now?" Zack was pacing now—another unconscious Spikeism. He was pacing and he was yelling and he really wanted a cigarette. He stopped when he saw the pain in his wife’s eyes. Sharp. His hardened expression melted, and they came together in a hug. "I’m sorry," he murmured into her hair. "You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…this…with everything. Slater being back and there’s so much you’re…God, Kelly, what aren’t you telling me?"

It was the perfect opening: laid out and waiting. Trembling, Kelly pulled back, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. And then she wanted it over with. She wanted to tell him everything. Everything that he had a right to know. Everything that she had been unjustly keeping from him because of her own petty fears. Everything that constituted his miniature spaz attack. Because it wouldn’t be over until it was truly over. Until he had every last shred of the truth.

It didn’t do well to live in this world a coward. She had resided on the Hellmouth long enough to know that.

So there she was; willing and ready to share. It was simply a matter of bad timing, as Rosie, disturbed from the yelling, began to stir in her sleep. "Daddy?" she mumbled, turning over. "Uncle Spike?"

The moment was over. Zack snapped to attention and was at his daughter’s bedside the next minute. When he reached her, though, he noted with some distant confusion that she was still in deep sleep. Deep sleep but talking. Rosie rarely spoke in her sleep, and when she did, it was mumbled incoherencies. He had definitely heard his name. His and Spike’s. This was mildly bothersome.

Tentatively, Zack reached out to touch her shoulder. "Rosie? Sweetie?"

"No…no…don’t hurt us…please no…"

The parents exchanged identical worried glances. Regardless of the child’s imminent grumpiness later at being woken up, the dream was obviously something that she wanted an escape from. Deciding, in the end, came down to a matter of who could snap her out of it first. "Rosie!" Zack said, voice rising in volume. "Rosie, sweetheart, wake up!"

Kelly was at her side the next minute, gently shaking her. "Rose? Honey, it’s Mommy. What’s wrong?"

The child remained steadfast in her sleep, turning slightly as her facial features contorted in grief-stricken agony. "No! No! Fight that evil. Promised. You…don’t…" Another twitch, and then the girl was awake, eyes bulging. "Uncle Spike!"

Her parents stared at her for a long minute, stunned into realms beyond disbelief.

"Rosie," Zack said slowly, caution laced in his tone. "Are you all right, honey?"

The girl was coming down—color returning to her cheeks, eyes dropping their façade of fear, and breathing slowly transcending back to regulation. When she realized she had been asked a question, she nodded, though the fear reflecting in pillars within her gaze suggested otherwise.

"Bad dream, sweetie?" Kelly asked. Zack had never seen her so worried.

Rosie glanced around the room. "Where’s Uncle Spike?"

The woman exchanged another look with her husband at the reproach of the touchy subject. However, Zack appeared too lost in his concern to even notice. "He left a few minutes ago."

"Is he okay?"

"Yes, honey, he’s fine." Kelly ran a hand through her daughter’s hair. "Did you dream that something had happened to him? Something bad?"

Rosie’s eyes widened, then she calmed. Slowly. The burden of a thousand lifetimes lost in the pupils of one so young. The sight was enough to steal the breath of anyone that looked at her. "Something very bad," she admitted. "But it was a dream. Not real. Just like pictures in a book."

"Do you want me to go find him?" Zack volunteered. "I’m sure he’d want to let you know that he’s not hurt."

Rosie shook her head. "That’s okay. He needs to work on the show. So do you, Daddy. You need to work on the show."

Another cautious glance at Kelly. She didn’t look convinced. "Are you sure?"

At that, the girl opted for a cheery smile, the light returning to her eyes. "Uh huh!" she declared. "I’m the mananer."

Zack smiled a little. "You are at that." He kissed his daughter’s forehead and met Kelly’s worried gaze. For the first time, he noticed how lost in her anxiety she was, and knew it had to do with more than Rosie’s sudden distress. It was something that had been building for a while—ever since Slater’s reappearance. The foolishness he felt before at his unruly accusations intensified. There was nothing to worry about there. 

Or so he tried to convince himself.

"You gonna be all right in here?"

Kelly plastered on a fake smile and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Just fine."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. I’m gonna go get Rosie a glass of water, then she better get back to sleep."

Zack nodded in turn before glancing back to his daughter. "You sure you don’t want me to go get Uncle Spike so he can tell you that he’s all right?"

"I’m sure, Daddy."

"All right." With a small, forced grin, he neared and kissed his wife. "I better go find him anyway," he said. "We have work to do."

"Yeah," she agreed faintly. "Tomorrow’s the show and all."

"Right." One parting kiss, and he was gone.

*~*~*

"OH MY GOD!"

"Bloody hell! Bugger off!"

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry…just…BAH!" Willow raced out of Spike’s impromptu dressing room, arm shielding her face. "My virgin eyes!"

Spike waited a few seconds before allowing his head to pop out in retribution. A glowering sulk was in full effect; lips perked in that notorious pout. "Right, Red. You’re a sodding wallflower." He disappeared back inside with a huff. 

It was at that moment that Zack decided to stroll in, still a bit flustered from his daughter’s nightmare epidemic. He noticed the comically widened eyes sprouted on Willow’s flushed face and couldn’t help but grin. "What’s all the hubbub, Bub?" 

The Witch pivoted and pointed dramatically. "Spike. Gold bikini. Speedo. Virgin eyes. Oh God!"

An evil smile crossed Zack’s face. "Gold bikini, eh?"

"No eh! Very no eh! Disturbing! Bah!" Willow whacked the side of her head a few times for emphasis. "I’m going to need an exorcism to get that image out of my brain."

From the dressing room came a deep, irritated baritone. "What part of ‘bugger off’ did you not understand?"

"Spike?" Zack asked, tapping lightly at the door. "Wanna give us a peek?"

"Sod off."

"Come on. I bet you look gorgeous."

"Says he who likes to dress up like a bird on the weekends. I don’t need you grabbing my arse, Zangy."

"Like I would!"

"You have before!"

Zack rolled his eyes. "For the last time, that wasn’t me!"

"Whatever. Sod off, or I’m really gonna start thinking you’re a bloody poof."

"Right. You and Buffy aren’t the only noisy ones in the castle. I think I effectively proved myself last night."

There was a heavy pause at the mention of the previous night, but Zack interpreted that as Spike struggling with some piece to his outfit. "Sorry," the vampire retorted a minute later. "I wasn’t listening."

"You didn’t need to be listening to hear us."

"My room’s next to Peaches and your promiscuous cousin. Trust me, I didn’t hear anything above that racket." 

Zack smirked tightly, rejoinder ready and perched on his taut lips before reminding himself why they were bantering in the first place. "Goddammit, Spike!" he growled, pounding on the door. "Stop skirting around the issue. I wanna see the bikini!"

"Zangy, let it go or I’m gonna rip your chest open and shove your still-beating heart down your throat."

He couldn’t help it at that. He snickered. "Like you could!"

A still beat of unmatched discomfort. "Right."

"Come on, you pansy. It can’t be any worse than what I was wearing earlier."

Another prolonged pause. "Trust me," Spike decided. "’S worse."

Zack smirked and turned to Willow. "What’s this for, anyway?"

"Rocky Horror number that we’re testing," she explained. "Spike won’t let Buffy sing to anyone but him. Trouble is, the big dope won’t come out of his dressing room."

"Why won’t he let Buffy sing to someone else if it’s this degrading?" He eyed the still door suspiciously. "He does know that I was kidding about the entire ‘his having to be Rocky’ thing, right?"

"Couldn’t make me if I didn’t want to!" Spike retorted resentfully.

Willow rolled her eyes before leaning in to whisper, "The song is Toucha Toucha Touch Me."

Zack paled, then grinned evilly as he remembered the number. "Oh. Is Buffy in costume yet?"

"Don’t see why it’s any business of yours!" came the indignant huff.

"Well, if you’re gonna sulk in there all day, I suppose I could—just this once—perform the part of Rocky. Think Buffy would mind—?"

That was all the motivation the vampire required. He practically bolted out of his sanctuary, studiously ignoring the gagging sounds that attacked a more than astonished Zack at his friend’s appearance. "Hell will freeze sodding over before I let you feel up my wife," Spike informed him with a growl. "I don’t bloody care who you are." He intently marched off for the performance hall, likewise ignoring the gasps of admiration and bewilderment that sounded from those he passed along the way.

"Good job," Willow applauded. Her eyes weren’t as jovial as she sounded.

Zack, for his part, merely watched his friend stalk off after recovering from his choking fit. It never ceased to amaze him how much of a female following Spike—even among the students. "Not a good job," he pouted. "I was this close to playing the part of Rocky! Granted, I would’ve only done it for one number, but it would’ve been worth it."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Men. You’re so typical."

He smirked at her before noting the lack of buoyancy within her facade. Considering this was Willow and she was doing something that she loved, he found the discovery more than troublesome. "Hey," he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she replied unconvincingly. "Oz and I…we had a small…it’s nothing."

"You sure?"

A plastic smile alighted her features, one that almost pained him to see. "Of the very," she said. "Come on. If Buffy’s ready, this is a show we’re not gonna wanna miss."

*~*~*

It was amazing just how quickly a vampire’s mind could change with proper motivation. With everything that had gone horribly wrong that day, seeing the Slayer in nothing more than a bra and a torn slip had his spirits soaring within seconds. Spike favored Buffy with a lavish leer and a wink. She bristled good-naturedly and rolled her eyes as they neared the set recreation of Frank-N-Furter’s laboratory. The scene had predictably attracted a high number of onlookers, and for posterity sake, Dumbledore advised that all students had to be at least seventeen before they were allowed a private screening of Snape’s all-too kind birthday surprise.

The threat of an audience hardly fazed Spike. He always joked with the Slayer that their sexcapades should be an Olympic event so that they could prove once and for all that they took home the gold. She would snicker dismissively despite the rakish grin the thought inevitably provoked. 

Zack and Willow snuck into the back where Kelly already had a seat with Lisa and Xander. In the absence of parental advisors, Kelly had nominated a very willing Dawn to watch after the napping Rosie. Giles was in the process of vacating the room, noting that he had seen this particular number far too many times without the additives of music and reason—both on screen and simply by living in Sunnydale. He wasn’t about to sit down and watch it willingly.

Spike was grinning like an idiot when he crawled into the makeshift sarcophagus, painted in poncy colors for the true Rocky Horror effect. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his snide remarks for Buffy’s ears only, especially when she was appearing in public with practically nothing on. 

"I can’t believe I let you talk me into this," she grumbled under her breath as she primped her hair one last time.

"Let you? I told you what happens in this scene and you bloody well forbade me to perform it with another chit."

"After you forbade me to perform it with another guy!"

"Right." Spike nodded satisfactorily. "Then we’re even."

"Places, people!" Lorne called, emerging from the back. He entered the main-stage area with a grin. "Buffy, sweetcakes. You look fantastic. And Spike: love the attitude, but could you mellow it out a bit? Remember, you’re supposed to be a readily born creature-feature. Innocent but frisky. Do we get the picture?"

"I know I do," Zack murmured to Kelly, who thwapped him for good measure.

Spike frowned and nodded at Lorne. "When he’d get in?"

"This morning while you were talking with Dumbledore," Buffy explained, looking away before she could note the slight flinch that crossed her husband’s face at the reminder. "Zack and I decided that since he is the quintessential ‘show-biz’ guy that he should be the director. That all right with you?" 

"It’s fine. Thought he was bringing that wanker Cameron along."

Buffy’s eyes widened comically. "Oh, you mean you didn’t see him?" Before the vampire could offer a reply, she had reached her own conclusion. "Never mind. You wouldn’t have asked if you had seen him. Trust me, Lorne brought Cameron along. And how."

"Yeah," the Host observed, shuddering visibly. "I’m gonna have to have a little chat about accessorizing with that boy. In the meantime, don’t we have a number to rehearse?"

"Right," Spike agreed readily with a nod, leaning against the frame of the rectangular box. "Let’s get to it, love."

"Start from the top," Lorne advised, moving out of the way so the eager audience could have an unobstructed view. Buffy moved slightly off to the side as her husband stretched fully at the bottom of his provisional prison. "From the lines I gave you. And…action!"

A few pitiful moans rumbled from the colorful box as Buffy approached it tentatively. Recognizing the scene immediately, Zack couldn’t help but shout, "Leave him alone! He’s monsterbating!" The audience immediately dissolved in laughter. Kelly elbowed him again, but her conviction lacked as she was trying desperately not to chuckle.

To their credit, the interruption didn’t hamper Buffy or Spike in the slightest. The Slayer merely smirked lightly to herself and approached the box with badly feigned trepidation. Spike rose to meet her with the same noted lack of reserve.

"Oh, you’re hurt!" Buffy exclaimed in a loud, fake voice. "Did they do this to you?" Spike nodded pitifully as he battled the temptation to laugh. She sneered at him and reached for the hem of her slip, tearing off a good strip without much effort. "Here. I’ll dress your wounds." With a saucy grin, she leaned inward and added, "And undress mine."

Spike couldn’t help himself. He let out a bark of laughter as he reached for her hands.

"Baby there," she cooed, sounding anything but motherly.

At that, Lorne’s loud and over-theatric voice rang loudly through the performing hall. "‘Emotion, agitation or disturbance of the mind...vehement or excited mental state. It is also a powerful and irrational master...and from what was viewed on the television monitor there seemed little doubt that Buffy was, indeed...its slave.’"

Spike neared his wife’s ears and sang softly, _"You know…you got a willing slave…"_ She smiled without malice but thwapped him just the same—the only nonverbal way to tell him to stick to the task at hand.

"TELL US ABOUT IT, BUFFY!" the entire auditorium shouted enthusiastically.

The music started, and the Slayer hesitated only a minute before beginning. _"I was feeling done in…couldn’t win. I’d only ever kissed before…"_

"WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT!" Angelus and Slater yelped. On bureaucracy alone, Zack whacked the latter upside the head. 

_"I thought there’s no use getting…into heavy petting. It only heads to trouble and…seat wetting…"_

"Hey, look my seat’s wet!" Kelly shouted. Her friends stared at her in astonishment and Spike laughed out loud again. She, in turn, merely shrugged and turned her eyes again to the performance.

That was the pivotal straw for Buffy. Though she had been warned that the film was subject to audience participation, she wanted no interruptions in the middle of her number. With a theatric rip of her slip, she sidled up to Spike and began crawling into the box with him. The enthusiastic waggle of his eyebrows was all the support she needed. _"Now all I want to know is how to go. I’ve tasted blood and I want more."_

Spike flashed the largest grin he had. _"More, more, more,"_ he encouraged.

_"I'll put up no resistance. I want to stay the distance. I've got an itch to scratch I need assistance."_ Buffy threw her arms around Spike’s neck and tossed her head back. _"Toucha toucha toucha touch me! I want to be dirty."_ At that, her husband was supposed to bristle and try to escape, but it was all the Slayer could do to fend him off her so that she might continue her number. _"Thrill me chill me fulfill me! Creature of the night."_

The music changed slowly, and Buffy leapt into the tank with him.

_"Then if anything grows…"_ she sang with a smirk, eyes trailing downward suggestively. _"While you pose…I’ll oil you up and drop you down."_

Spike reached for the sides of the reservoir and gripped with everything he had, his battle with himself reaching immeasurable heights. _"Down, down, down…"_ he pleaded softly, grip tightening when her lips brushed his throat. 

The audience was getting riled. Some had started hooting in support. However, the key players were no longer paying attention. 

_"And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction. You need a friendly hand…"_ Finally, just when it appeared Spike was about to blow a fuse, Buffy reached for his hands and directed them emphatically to her breasts…and all but mauled in response. _"And I need action. Toucha toucha toucha touch me! I want to be dirty. Thrill me chill me fulfill me! Creature of the night."_

The students whooped and some eyes bulged. Teachers immediately leapt to attention and began directing everyone out of the room. Neither Buffy nor Spike had the presence of mind to notice. 

_"Oh!"_ came the loud, brazen moan. Even Zack turned maroon. He knew well the stories of his best friends’ sex-life, but he hardly needed a diagram. _"Toucha toucha toucha touch me! I want to be dirty. Thrill me chill me fulfill me! Creature of the night!"_

That was it. The only sounds that could be heard after that were the ones not made for virgin ears.

"I think it’s safe to say," Willow said, once the couple was left to their own discretion within the performance hall, "that this number will not be in the show tomorrow."

"Anyone else for ew?" Xander asked, shuddering. "’Cause I’m all with the ew!"

"I’m more for, why can’t you be more like him?" Lisa retorted. "Other than the gold bikini. That fashion statement was nearly punishable by death."

"Xander was always very active in our bed," Anya offered. "Very pleasing. Maybe you just don’t do it for him."

"I’m immune to Anya sex-talk," Willow admitted. "But that…"

Angelus sneered condescendingly and wrapped an arm around Clarice. "What?" he asked rhetorically. "Not that I encourage their mating rituals, but it’s not like it’s any worse than what you see us do."

"Thankfully, Oz and I have been here for several years, thus had many opportunities to forget." The Witch pointedly ignored the waver in her voice, as well as Zack’s brief flash of concern.

Slater shuddered. "Someone please get this image out of my head."

"What?" Zack sputtered. "Couldn’t stand to see how it’s really supposed to be done?"

"Watch it, Morris. You almost sounded fruity."

"And there’s a problem with that?" Willow demanded.

"And he’s so not!" Kelly scowled. Slater’s eyes widened at her; she had hardly said three words to him since his reappearance. "I should know."

"Oh yeah," he snickered. "That’s why you came to me for—"

Before the thought could even begin to transcend into existence, Zack had his former best friend on the ground again, effectively beating the tar out of him. He ignored his wife’s protest, Angelus’s encouragement, Willow’s pleas for the sake of the children—anything and everything that tried to deter his focus. It wasn’t until Xander reached down and physically tore the blonde off the jock that he realized how far out of control he had allowed Slater’s words to push him.

"God, look at you!" the curly-haired man cried. "Is this what being around these freaks has done?"

"These ‘freaks’ are more loyal than you could ever know!" Zack screamed. 

"Gotta say I’m with him on that one," Xander said. "Spike is no friend of mine—for good reason—but I know I can count on him when I need to, regardless of our not being the best of chums. And I know he won’t try to sleep with my wife."

"Got that right," Lisa muttered, somewhat resentfully. 

Slater opened his mouth to reply but closed it quickly when he saw he was definitely outnumbered. "Fine," he growled, jaw-tightening. "Fine. Just don’t come crawling to me when it turns out that—hey—befriending a bloodsucking fiend isn’t exactly the best way to stay alive."

"Yes, and you’re walking proof of that, aren’t you?" Clarice drawled.

"I thought you said you didn’t remember."

"Well, I’m a vampire. Evil. One of those bloodsucking fiends you just mentioned. In other words: I lied." She eyed his jugular and licked her lips. "We could always go for seconds. I bet you’d be even tastier this time around."

"Stay away from me."

"Then stay away from my cousin."

Zack looked at her askance to this seemingly random support, but he knew better than to question it. "Right," he said. "Right." With a delicate grasp of Kelly’s hand, he nodded in the direction of their bedroom. "We better go see how Dawn’s holding up." 

She nodded eagerly and took his hand. They disappeared down the hallway without another word.

*~*~*

Nearly two hours passed before anyone summoned the courage to venture inside the performance hall. While the sounds had died down sometime around noon, there was always the chance that the vampires were engaged in a less-vocal but equally-scandalous activity. 

Finally, when the need for further practice became nearly essential, the doors burst open and a parade of performers rushed through. There was a gasp as Buffy clutched a sheet around her middle and rose to bashful attention, followed slowly by an equally naked Spike, who looked more than pleased with himself.

There was much staring, before Wesley blurted out in embarrassed astonishment:

"Buffy!"

"Wesley!"

Zack eyed her appreciatively. "Buf-fy," he said approvingly.

"Zack!" she growled in warning.

"Spike," Giles said with low accusation.

Spike merely snickered and graced him with the two-finger salute.

And it continued like that.

"Buffy!"

"Wesley!"

"Buf-fy…"

"Zack!"

"Spike!"

Snicker.

"Buffy!"

"Wesley!"

"Buf-fy…"

"Zack!"

"Spike!"

Snicker. Spike finally cocked his head to the side as he bent down to retrieve his gold bikini bottoms. "Right then," he said. "We’ll be out in a flash. Give us a minute."

"Uh huh," Zack said sarcastically. "We leave this room and we won’t get back in for another two hours. We have to rehearse! Besides, you guys have to be hungry."

At that, Spike could do nothing but nod. "Right. Nothing like a hefty workout to get me peckish. Scout’s honor, we’ll be out in a minute. And get your eyes back inside your head before I make you eat ‘em!"

Zack merely smirked as the group sauntered away to let the vampires dress in peace without an audience.

Fifteen minutes was given for the couple before Zack was pounding on the door again. "You two better be ready."

"I don’t know," Spike chided with him. "I take it all back. Still need a few more minutes." Both were completely dressed and sitting with their legs dangling off the newly built stage. He lit up a cigarette and glanced at his wife. "Yup, at least ten more."

"No can do," Zack called. "And I’m giving you ten seconds. I have a fool proof way to make sure those pants are on."

"What?" Buffy teased.

"Uncle Spike! Aunt Buffy!" Rosie called.

"That’s it," Zack said. "You’ve got ten seconds before I send the girl in. Remember that she’ll see everything."

"You have no idea," Spike muttered without a bit of humor in his voice.

"Ten," Zack called.

"Please please, we’re not ready," Buffy yelled.

"Nine."

"I cand find my pants," Spike, fully-dressed, said with a smirk.

"Eight….Seven…Six."

"Spike, don’t put on the bikini."

"Five."

"Love, what do you want me to wear? I’ve got nothing else."

"Four…Three."

"Wear’s my bra?" Buffy said hardly maintaining a serious voice.

"Two."

"Oh, God, Buffy, your pants are over there."

"One. Times up," Zack said. With that, Rosie came running through the door and straight toward the end of the stage with her arms in the air. As soon as she was within reach, Spike picked her up and hoisted her on his lap.

"Oh no!" Spike said with mock horror. He blew his smoke out of the little girl’s face while tucking his pack back in his duster. "Don’t see me in my knickers."

"You dressed the whole time?" Zack asked dryly.

"You asked for it," Buffy smiled.

"’Specially after that whole ten-second speech. I was waiting to hear you say ‘Cut that out or I’m pulling this thing over. Don’t make me come back there.’"

"Sorry, Willy. But somebody is going to have to be the responsible one and take charge of this show," Zack said. Before Spike could comment on the annoying choice of name, Zack yelled, "Lorne!"

"Why are looking for him?" Buffy asked.

"Hello! When I said somebody had to take charge of this show, I didn’t mean me," Zack said ignoring his best friend’s amused gaze. "And besides, this is Lorne’s thing. He’s happy to take charge."

"Your pap is a load of…crap," Spike said to the giggling girl.

"Spike," Kelly scolded. "Don’t use that language around her. It’s bad enough that she’s already learning British slang."

"So crap’s bad?" Spike said with an arched brow. "I think bleeding, sod, and bloody hell would be bigger prerogatives."

"See," Zack said to Rosie. "We told you that Uncle Spike was just fine."

"What do you mean?" Spike said in a no-nonsense tone that turned more than a couple heads.

"Pigtails had a bad dream," Zack said absently looking around the room for his new director. "Woke her up and she was fine. Right Kel?"

"Yeah. Something about you and Zack being hurt. Rosie didn’t want to talk about it."

Thoughts flashed before Spike’s eyes. If the girl predicted him hurting her dad, he didn’t know what he would do. "What happened?" Spike demanded the little girl, a little too intensely.

"It was just a dream, Uncle Spike," Rosie said reassuring. She was a bit shaken, but he could tell that she hadn’t had another vision. "Just a dream."

"OK people," Lorne said sauntering in. "Break’s over. Back to work. We’ve got a show to do."

"See," Zack said all smiles. "He does the hard work and we reap the monetary benefits."

"I’m not doing this for free, mind you," Lorne said. "How much you getting paid?"

"Ten grand," Zack said without missing a beat. Spike nearly laughed out loud since it was more than ten times that, but he understood what his buddy was getting at.

"Well, I want a part."

"Deal." After that, Zack walked over to Spike. "The band signed a confidentiality agreement. We aren’t telling them how much we’re getting or they’ll be wanting a share."

"Who knows?" Buffy asked.

"Us. And Kelly. Josh and Donna and Ferris. Also I told Giles."

"Why?" Spike asked.

"Cuz, I promised him a bit of a cut if he would dress up as Frank. Hopefully he’ll consider it."

"Ripper as a transvestite?" Spike said with a mischievous look and smile. "Hell, tell him that I’ll throw in a bit on the pot myself."

"Deal," Zack said picking up his daughter. "Lunchtime. Plus I can think of a couple of people who are probably quite peckish."

"Me too," Buffy agreed, getting up and walking with Zack to the table.

"By the way," Spike said after pausing for a moment before getting up and following the others. "Earlier, you weren’t checking out my wife, Morris, were you?"


	10. Chapter 10

Lunch and the early part of the afternoon went by without incident. Rehearsals went on and progress continued on stage building and costume making. Everyone was busy working and those who weren’t, were busy staying out of the way.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that problems began. First tempers rose when Stephen decided to play keep-away with Rosie’s teddy bear. Stephen ran all around the Great Hall screaming at the top of his lungs as Rosie shrieked and followed a few steps behind. Things got worse when Stephen ran under Xander’s ladder causing the boy’s dad to lose balance and drop his can of red paint right a top of Rosie’s head.

After everyone realized that the girl wasn’t bleeding to death, Kelly retrieved the stuffed toy and took her daughter up stairs for a bath. To Kelly, it was a blessing to get away from the tension still lurking between her and Zack. She was dreading for the show to be over because she knew that he would want to sit down and talk and she knew that she wouldn’t have good excuses from hiding her secrets from him.

Lisa also had a handful with her child. After she slapped the kid and sent him to his room she walked over and slapped her husband as well.

"First of all," Xander said in astonishment. "What was that for? And second, is ouch!"

"If you could control your son then we wouldn’t have this problem," Lisa snapped before adding, "And, you made red paint get onto the scarf I was mending."

"Sorry, but I think we both have positions in the blame game. Neither one of us have been doing good by him."

"It’s more your fault," Lisa said crossing her arms matter-of-factly.

"Me?!? You spend more time with him that I do!"

"Exactly. If you weren’t such a delinquent father there wouldn’t be this problem."

"I work. And besides," he was now shouting. Everyone tried to not listen, but it was impossible. "You’re the one he picks up that attitude from. If you weren’t such a bitch all the time then maybe he wouldn’t act like a little ass."

"How dare you! I only get that way because you’re never home."

"Because I can’t stand you! I can’t believe that I married you. Being drunk was no excuse."

Lisa slapped him. "Well that’s no excuse. You have a son."

"I can’t stand him either!"

"I think we better break this up," Zack said to Buffy. "This isn’t going to work out good for either one if it goes any further now."

"Agreed," she whispered.

As they walked over to the unhappy couple, the argument continued. "I can’t stand him either, but you don’t see me running away from him."

"Are you kidding you get rid of him everyday so you can go sleep with all of Sunnydale, Lisa!"

Both Zack and Buffy’s eyes went wide and they stopped in their tracks.

"What are you saying?" Lisa screamed.

"I’m saying…" Xander paused.

"I think this is our best bet," Buffy said grabbing Zack’s arm.

"Let’s hope," Zack muttered.

As they approached the couple, Xander finished his thought. "I’m saying that I want a divorce."

Neither Zack nor Buffy missed a beat as they turned around and fled in the opposite direction.

In a place like Hogwarts, the escape routes could vary between the complex and the unhelpful. Zack and Buffy were halfway up the hallway that led to the guest chambers when they nearly ran headfirst into Spike, Giles, and Kelly—who was still a little red from the paint residue—on their way to the main stage area. They were in such heated discussion that it took Spike a beat before he recognized his wife’s nearby scent, glancing upward with horror-filled eyes.

"You won’t bloody believe this," he greeted before they could get a word in.

"Xander and Lisa are getting divorced?" Zack guessed.

Spike snickered. "No. I said you wouldn’t believe it, not that you could predict it." At that, he turned to Kelly and asked, "Didn’t we have a pool running? How long before—"

"No," Kelly vehemently denied. "I’m not that kind of girl."

"Not the way I hear it."

"SPIKE!" Zack snapped, face flushing at the rather indignant look he was receiving from his wife. "The news? Remember? What is it that we won’t bloody believe?"

A look of recollection overwhelmed the vampire for a prolonged moment, but he couldn’t seem to piece his words together without frowning. "I…can’t," he said. "’S just too awful for words. You tell ‘em, Ripper."

Giles glanced up at the suggestion from where he stood polishing his glasses. It was then that Zack knew to take the news seriously. While the routine polishing sessions were not of the bizarre, he knew that the Watcher attempted to reserve such instances for times when he was at a loss for words. "I just got off the phone with Fred," he began. "I had to trek a bloody mile and a half away so that my cell would work, but I talked with her just the same. She and Gunn agreed to keep tabs on all things Hellmouth while we were away…even if it was from Los Angeles." A long, tortured sigh sounded through his throat. "I cannot…she shared some news that is…rather distressing."

"Yeah," Buffy encouraged. "Kinda got that part. Has she picked up a lead on the entire ‘Slater equals here’ mystery?"

"No," the Watcher replied regretfully. "God, if only…"

"GILES!" Zack snapped. "We’re dying here! Spill!"

Spike nodded at the old man as a token of his unspoken support. "Just get it out," he mumbled. "Right and quick."

"Like a band-aid," Kelly agreed. "Maybe it won’t be as painful."

Giles nodded theatrically and sighed once more. "It’s about…the governor election," he told them. "Apparently, in our absence, there was a recall. And the worst has happened. California is now under the control…of Arnold Schwarzenegger."

There was a long minute of stunned actuality. Zack’s eyes bulged and Buffy looked ready to scream.

"But…" The Slayer protested. "H-how…how could this happen?"

Spike shrugged and reached for his cigarettes. He had located one of the many extra packs on the trip back to their rooms. After nearly tearing his bed apart, he found a herd of them in the far reaches of his suitcases. Nestled securely as though not wanting to be found. He had quirked a smile and snatched up two; one for the inner lapels of his duster and the other for his back pocket. Buffy was cute in her various methods of trying to get him to quit; even if the smoke couldn’t harm her. He wagered it was simply another defense mechanism that allowed her to pretend she was still alive. "What can I say, love?" he asked rhetorically. "Bad things ‘appen to good people all the time."

"But we’re not good people," Zack pointed out. "Hell, most of us aren’t even people! Well, okay, we are, but you two aren’t!"

Buffy was shaking her head, still lost amidst her numerous objections. "Gray Davis. We all wanted…we all…"

"The Scoobies wanting it doesn’t make it so, pet," Spike told her sympathetically. "But ‘d like to take the opportunity to note that I’m not a bleeding American citizen. Hell will freeze sodding over before I live in a state ruled by the Terminator."

"Wasn’t he in the movie Predator?" Kelly asked.

"Yeah. Along with half of America’s new governor-elects." Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Slayer, I know SunnyD’s on a Hellmouth and adding Schwarzenegger to the bill isn’t gonna make anything right, but would you object to moving to London?"

"There’s the Hellmouth in Cleveland," Giles offered. "I’m sure they could use our help."

"How about Canada," Zack said to Kelly, slowly coming out of his shock. "Canada seems nice. They have paid medical and everything, and it’s not as violent. Perfect place to raise your kids."

"Where goes Rosie, so goes her uncle," Spike said regretfully, stealing Buffy’s answer right off her lips. "Don’t s’pose you’d consider moving to London with me and the wife, would you, Zangy?"

"Depends on how well we like our stay here. I must say, the countryside is breathtaking."

"Maybe we can get Bartlet to intervene," Kelly suggested hopefully. "I mean, he helped Mr. Smith with that election in Maine, didn’t he?"

Buffy looked even paler than usual, as though the reality of events was finally catching up with her. Her condition immediately became the center of focus for her concerned husband. "Oh God," she mumbled, leaning against Spike supportively. "It’s my fault. I’m the Slayer. I should’ve…there had to have been something I could have…and we left and it…"

"’S not your fault, kitten," Spike assured her, placing a tender kiss on her brow. "Wonky things happen, ‘specially in good ole Cali."

"But I…" She looked to Giles desperately. "This can’t be allowed. Is he a demon? Tell me he’s a demon."

"He’s not a demon," the Watcher replied sorrowfully. 

"But he is a politician now," Kelly observed. "They’re just as bad."

"Worse, if you ask me," Zack muttered. He then glanced around the hall and emitted a sigh of relief when he noted that Josh and Donna had not been within convenient proximity to hear that comment. Then his eyes bulged in horror. "Oh God! I’m having an attack of the massive wiggins! Schwarzenegger was in a Batman movie!"

Everyone stared at him curiously.

"He was not," Kelly argued.

"Yes he was! He was Mr. Freeze in Batman and Robin!" Zack shuddered. "It’s a bloody conspiracy, I tell you!"

Buffy sighed in defeat and glanced up to meet Spike’s eyes. He had not looked away from her since the slightest hint of dizziness threatened to overrule her system, even if physics declared it impossible given she wasn’t technically alive. "I give up," she informed him. "What are the options now? Canada, Cleveland, or London?"

"As Rosie goes, so goes Spike," he repeated, brushing a kiss over her lips. "Unless Buffy goes in the other direction, of course."

"Like I would deprive you of your Rosie time. Or myself, for that matter."

Spike glanced wearily to the Morrises. "Still," he said speculatively. "Don’t exactly fancy the idea of Zangy dragging us by the short-hairs to loc-als of his bloody picking. I say we all sit down and chat this out over dinner."

"Agreed," Zack said, thumping Spike on the back for good measure. "But until then, we better get to rehearsal. It’s about time for the minstrel show." He favored Buffy with a lavish leer. "Are you going to wear something fluffy?"

"Watch it," Spike growled in warning.

"In your dreams," Buffy retorted with a sardonic eye roll.

"Ah-hem," Kelly said, waving at him. "Standing right here."

At that precise moment, Xander traipsed up the hallway, looking a little worse for the wear. However, despite the noted preoccupation of his personal life, it appeared he was more chipper than he had been in years. "Hey everyone," he greeted. "What’s with the group congregation? Is there news from the home front?"

"Yeah." Spike decided it should be he who bestowed the unhappy news. Harris was prone to blame the messenger, so it might as well come from someone the boy already hated. "All hell’s broken loose, regretfully not in the literal sense. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s been elected governor."

To everyone’s surprise, Xander offered little to no reaction. He was still reeling from the promise of his newfound freedom. 

"Gee," he finally decided, "and here I thought that I had problems." A few more seconds passed out of obligatory respect. "Hey, has anyone seen Anya?"

*~*~*

It wasn’t until they were on the stage that the true meaning of ’minstrel show’ finally sank in.

It hadn’t arrived as originally anticipated. Not with the dancers, the props, the additives of musical instruments they were supposed to master before the performance tomorrow night. Not even with the lighting and camera crew. However, when Spike and Zack stood side-by-side in identical tailored suits, both complete with a top hat and cane, the reality of their situation sank in.

"Oh God," Spike muttered in horror.

"Hey, at least you don’t have a reflection," Zack observed, eying his doppelganger on the other side of the glass. "You aren’t forced to see how horrible we look."

"Hmmm," Buffy mused, approaching with a mug full of warm blood for her husband. She slid it into his hands and planted a loving kiss on his lips. "I don’t know. The look’s kinda sexy."

Spike spared her a worried glance. "Love," he said softly. "I’ve never questioned your taste before—it’s usually exquisite in all contexts—but that remark made you sound as loony as Dru."

"Humph." The Slayer pouted at him until he caved, flashing a winning smile and kissing her once in reassurance. Unfortunately, as was habit for them, one kiss multiplied into two, then four, and before he knew it, Zack was witnessing an unfortunately active round of tonsil tossing.

"Okay, you two. Break it up." He shook his head wearily as they proceeded to ignore him merrily. "Sheesh. And they have the nerve to say marriage ruins the romance. How long before you guys think the bloom will be off the rose?"

Spike pulled back long enough to lick his lips and shrug. "Hmmm. Whaddya think, pet? Three centuries? Four?"

"A dozen," she decided with a mischievous grin. "Then we’ll be having sex once or twice a day, like everyone else."

"Poor buggers," her husband agreed rakishly.

Zack shuddered. He was too preoccupied with toning up his appearance to really care what his friends were doing, though he couldn’t deny being extremely grateful that there was a mirror handy. "God, it’s like watching the chronicles for every extremely wrong thing Anya has ever said acted out."

"Oh, come on, mate," Spike replied between kisses. "You can’t tell me that the married life has treated you improperly."

Zack paused at that. He really couldn’t. "No, it hasn’t," he retorted, even if he knew they were doing anything but listen. The sounds from behind were becoming more and more heated, and he was unfortunate enough to know what was going to happen if he didn’t make a conscious effort to break them up sooner. "You’d think having a kid would slow us down. Hell no. We’re still at it like bunnies. It’s great." 

There was no reply to that. Only muffled smacking sounds and the occasional moan. Zack eyed his reflection dryly, rolled his eyes at the invisible couple behind him, and finally summoned the courage to turn around. 

The scene truly wasn’t as bad as it could have been. His pal’s outfit was a little rumpled and his hat was on the ground. His hair had similarly suffered some carnage, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. As for Buffy, though. Well…

"Eyes inside your head, Morris!"

Heh.

A warning growl rumbled through Spike’s throat, but he offered a final defiant kiss to his wife before swatting her butt to get her moving. "You better toddle off," he said. "if not only to get away from unwanted prying eyes…" Zack offered another chuckle, though it was more to annoy Spike than for true admiration. The Cockney snickered and shook his head dismissively. "The sooner we get this humiliating thing over with…"

"I agree," Morris said, even if he knew he wasn’t being addressed. "Then we can double our efforts to get Giles to perform Sweet Transvestite."

"You two sure have an unhealthy infatuation with the thought of my Watcher in fishnets," Buffy observed as she primped herself up for the leave.

"Trust me, kitten," Spike said with a wink. "The sight’d be worth the inevitable nightmares."

"Oh yeah," Zack agreed. "Definitely." 

If possible, the people who showed up for a screening of the minstrel show outdid those who had snuck in to sneak a peek at Spike and Buffy’s sexcapades. A full orchestra had set up in the pit below the stage, and there was a colorful backdrop of faceless portraits sporting red show-gloves. It was all a bit much, but the general feel was more than delighted.

Lorne lit up with delight when he saw the star attractions moseying over to assume position. Over the period of the past hour, he had somewhere donned a pair of Hollywood sunglasses, another clipboard, and a pale pink scarf that was casually strewn over his shoulder. "All right, boys!" he greeted cheerily. "It’s packed out there! Ya’ll aren’t nervous, are you?"

"Nervous?" Zack squeaked.

Spike shrugged indifferently. "Don’t know why everyone’s here for the sodding rehearsal," he observed. "It’s not like we’re gonna get it perfect the first time ‘round, anyway."

He and Zack eyed each other at that and spawned identical mischievous grins. 

"Think we can?" Morris asked.

"’Course we can," the vampire retorted cockily. "We are the best of ‘em, aren’t we?"

"Sure as hell are! Let’s do it!" Zack was bursting with energy as he turned to face an equally thrilled Lorne. "Who’s playing Rosemary’s part?"

"The only person I could find with a decent voice was Anya," he retorted. "I would’ve done it, but I think that would be overstepping my boundaries just a bit."

"Eh, sod the boundaries, Big Green," Spike said dismissively. "I know for a fact that you can sing it better than her."

"Yes, well I know for a fact that Anya’s gonna seek some vengeance right quick if we decide to take the number away from her," Zack pointed out. "All right. We ready? We’re ready. Let’s do this thing."

"Now, remember," Lorne cautioned. "Good dress rehearsals make for bad performances. So while I am in full support of you giving it your hundred and ten percent, keep in mind that you don’t want to throw your ALL at the audience now. It’s Snape tomorrow that we need to impress. Right?"

The blonde duo eyed each other skeptically but nodded just the same. The look they delivered reflected a will to do anything but their unspoken promise, but the Host sighed resignedly and accepted that he couldn’t change their minds if said minds didn’t want to be changed. With a simple shrug of defeat, he ushered them onto the stage.

"Now, remember the chord change!" he instructed. "And the dance numbers, just like I showed you this morning. Right?"

"This morning?" Spike asked uneasily.

"Just follow my lead," Zack told him.

"Right. That’s reassuring."

"Oh come on. If we could improvise in the car, when can improvise here." 

Apparently, it was time to find out. The symphony sounded their start and Zack and Spike automatically slipped into their on-stage persona. With graceful balance, they danced onto the center of the arena, twirling canes and linking arms for a once-round before the music began to simmer in light of their cue. A few ad hoc tap-dance steps were performed in perfect unison until they finally slowed and took stride next to each other. Their hands rested atop their canes even as their legs still jolted back in forth, as if to display a need to keep dancing while they remained perfectly stationary.

Then they began singing.

_"I'd rather see a minstrel show, than any other show I know. Oh, those comical folks."_ They glanced to each other and mock-hissed. _"With their riddles and jokes! Here is the riddle that I love the best…"_ Spike turned to pretend-whisper in Zack’s ear before his friend stepped forward and spread his arms invitingly. _"Why does a chicken go...?"_

The vampire recovered the step and covered his mouth, flashing a grin to the audience. _"You know the rest!"_

_"Yes, sir!"_ Zack agreed enthusiastically before they came together once more.

_"I'd pawn my overcoat and vest to see a minstrel show!"_

With a theatric turn and a choreographed hop, they turned as the screen behind lifted, revealing an entourage of dancers with tambourines, all beating rhythmically along with the orchestra. A throne-like chair sat between two velvet benches, and inviting Spike and Zack to join the tambourine players for a brief instant before strutting up to meet Anya at the middle of the stage once more.

When the vengeance demon began singing, her voice was overly fake and theatric, but the overall effect was outstanding. They clapped in sync and she turned to Zack, who was grinning at her from the side and began. _"Mister Bones, Mister Bones. How do you feel, Mister Bones?"_

Another round of clapping before Zack cheerily responded, " _Rattling!"_

Anya turned to Spike, who was at attention at her other side and informed him, _"Mister Bones feels rattling! Ha, ha. That's a good one. Tell a little story, Mister Bones."_

Zack opened his mouth theatrically to begin, but was interrupted once more by Spike, who smirked to emphasize, _"A funny little story, Mister Bones."_ He and Anya then proceeded to rest their hands and heads on either one of Zack’s shoulders as the man began his mini-solo.

_"How can you stop an angry dog from biting you on Monday?"_

" _That joke is old,"_ Anya informed him in song as Morris’s eyes traveled from one companion to the next in a rapid, musical motion. _"The answer is to kill the dog on Sunday."_

Zack shook his head snidely. _"That's not the way to stop a dog from biting you on Monday."_

Anya mock-snickered and retorted, _"How would you bring the thing about?"_

Zack took an exaggerated step forward and tipped his hat slightly before belting out as loudly and unattractively as possible, _"Have the doggie's teeth pulled out!"_

The vampire and the demon pretended to scoff in horror. The latter shook her head and glanced down. _"Oh, Mister Bones, that's terrible!"_

Zack sniffed in shame. "Oh-ho."

Spike and Anya glanced to each other to verify her verdict, nodded, and reiterated, _"Yes, Mister Bones, that's terrible!"_

_"Oh-ho."_

The music changed and Zack immediately lost his sorrowful façade, performing another exaggerated leg-movement before dancing to the back so that Spike might have center-stage. The vampire, who was not as comfortable dancing as his noted cohort, still managed to pull it off. He shimmied and waddled to the front, almost mimicking a fizzling explosive that was tightly wound and ready to ignite.

" _Missus Interloc'ter,"_ he inquired of Anya, somehow pulling off both conversational and musical at the same time.

_"What is wrong with you?"_ she retorted in the same manner.

_"I know of a doctor."_

_"Tell about him, do."_

It was then that Spike’s amazingly soulful vocals were really showcased. He projected as much as he could without overdoing it, pointing downward effectively. _"Sad to say, one day he fell right into a great big well."_

There was a staged gasp of poignancy that Anya, who was notably indifferent, somehow managed to pull off. _"Oh, that's too bad."_

Spike snickered. _"Serves him bloody right."_

_"Why speak in such a tone?"_

The vampire straightened his hat and informed everyone matter-of-factly: _"He should have attended to the sick and let the well alone."_

The two blonde men quickly jumped back, stacking themselves in single-file behind Anya, who proudly informed everyone as they took turns adding little cackles from either side of her.

_"That's a joke…"_

A brief peek. _"Oh-ho."_

_"That was told…"_

A second. _"Ah-ha."_

_"By the minstrel days we miss."_

All three performers stepped into graceful sync as they harmonized for the prelude to Buffy and Wesley’s highly-anticipated dance number. _"When Georgie Primrose used to sing and dance to a song like this!"_

The music changed dramatically as Spike, Zack, and Anya directed the audience’s attention to Buffy, who was being elevated through the peak of something that resembled a makeshift volcano. The sides were aligned with dancers—men dressed in green and the women in white—and all held matching tambourines. The choice of wardrobe was obvious: Buffy, in her white little number was supposed to be the star attraction. With the other females in competing form camouflaged in the background, it was difficult to notice anyone else.

_"Mandy!"_ the chorus sang. _"Mandy...Mandy!"_ Buffy began her descent down the large prop, dancing her way over various extras and fighting to maintain a smile the entire time. _"Mandy, there's a minister handy. And it sure would be dandy if we let him make a fee. So don't you linger, here's a ring for your finger. Isn't it a humdinger? Come along and let the wedding chimes bring happy times for Mandy and me!"_

" _Mandy!"_ Spike and Zack agreed in song. _"What a gal!"_ They moved to each possessively take hold of her arms, strutting with large, embellished steps as they continued, _"Mandy, there's a minister handy. And it sure would be dandy if we let him make a fee…"_ The men broke into a small-tap number that involved a highly amusing body-wriggle. _"He's got his rent to pay so don't delay it's not a day to linger. Here's a ring for your finger. Isn't it a humdinger? We advise to live and love and honor and obey before he gets away, making Mandy and me!"_

There was a short musical break as they danced around her—Zack the more skilled but Spike following in close second. It was difficult to tell whether or not he was holding back for the sake of avoiding complete-poofterdom. When the dance solo came to an end, they boxed her in on other side with a move that resembled a duck flapping.

_"The wedding chimes,"_ Zack began.

_"Bring happy times,"_ Spike intervened, turning to Morris briefly as they again seized hold of each arm and danced over to Wesley so that the Slayer might engage her number. _"For Mandy and me."_

And they were off. The Slayer and the former Watcher immediately disregarded the singers as they set into their own little number. Everyone watched with a mixture of amusement and fascination as they battled to outdo the other, resulting in one of the most skilled and choreographed numbers that anyone had ever seen performed live. Even Zack and Spike, who were supposed to be expecting this, stood aside a bit in blatant awe. And when Buffy set into her high-kicks, it was all her husband could do to maintain his professional façade.

The dance number ended with the entire stage engaged in a tambourine number set to the tune of Mandy. It ensued until Buffy was toted and carried back up the makeshift volcano-prop, the chorus ringing in with a theatric:

_"So don't you linger, here's a ring for your finger. Isn't it a humdinger? Come along and let the wedding chimes bring happy times for Mandy…"_ When the Slayer reached the top again, her arms were seized as Wesley performed an impromptu solo in front of her—one that resulted in him looking like a trained monkey in the middle of a dance routine. The funniest thing about it was the huge, authentic smile on his face. Luckily, he had moved out of the way for Buffy’s assisted descent. She ended up in Spike’s arms, and was hoisted on top of his shoulder. _"Mandy! And me!"_ Everyone struck a pose, and the music came to an abrupt halt.

The entire auditorium was still with shock. People were torn between complete awe and the innate knowledge that this was the part where they were supposed to applaud. It wasn’t until Angelus began singing acapella, very badly and from the front row, that the astonishment wore off.

_"Oh Mandy! Well you came and you gave without taken…and I sent you away, oh Mandy! Well you kissed me and stopped me from shaken…but I need you today oh—"_

In a desperate attempt to override the horror that was Angelus’s voice, the entire auditorium started clapping and waving and screaming like no other. The performers on stage were finally permitted to move from position, taking a well-deserved bow. When they earned a standing ovation, however, Zack completely lost it. He and Spike dissolved into a fit of giggles and had to be assisted off-stage by Giles and Buffy.

"Oh God," Zack gasped. "That was the most horrendous—"

"Bloody awful—"

"Over-done—"

"Exaggerated…"

They eyed each other wearily, grinned, and exclaimed, "Bloody brilliance!" before dissolving once more.

"Well," Buffy snipped, stretching her more than sore muscles. "I’m glad you two are happy. I was the one being flung out there like a rag doll every five seconds."

"Just getting you limbered up for tonight," Spike purred. "Not to mention tomorrow, when we do the whole bloody thing over again."

"Argh," the Slayer moaned. "Don’t remind me."

"Who would’ve thought it?" Zack wondered aloud. "I actually enjoyed that."

"I’ll admit, it wasn’t as awful as it could’ve been." Spike snaked an arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her to him seductively. "And pet…that dance number. Got me all riled up."

"Looking at cantaloupe gets you riled up."

He ignored her. "Have you been practicing all those delicious little…moves…without my knowing?"

"Oh yeah," she replied in the same tone. "Wesley and I—"

Immediately, the seductive façade was dropped and Spike growled menacingly. "What?!"

"Oh come on. You walked right into it."

"She has you there, buddy," Zack agreed, turning away before the vampire could snap at him to take Kelly into his arms. Her eyes were watering from laughing and applauding so loud. They shared a private celebration for a few long minutes before she turned to everyone to portion her praise.

"Oh God," she said. "That was…wow. So much…it was like watching the movie, only a lot funnier."

"Wasn’t supposed to be funny," Spike scoffed. "Was supposed to be artistic."

"It was that too, Sweetie," Buffy assured him.

"Well, I think we effectively bollixed everything up for tomorrow night," he retorted. "So much for the not ‘giving it your all’ rubbish that Lorne was preaching."

"Yeah." Zack paused and frowned, taking a look around the vacant showroom. "Where is he, anyway? I expected to get a mouthful by now."

"Maybe later," Kelly replied coyly.

Spike and Buffy froze, ignoring the suddenly aroused and hopeful look on her husband’s face, and proceeded to stare at the woman blankly. 

"And the Pom-Pom suddenly has spine," Spike applauded.

"What?" she defended. "I can’t say one risqué thing every now and then?"

"As long as you follow up on it," Zack muttered. "But I meant as in…okay. Earful’s a better word. I expected to get an earful by now."

Kelly shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very interested in getting the vampires to stop staring at her as though she had just announced she was the Playmate of the Year. "Right," she said. "Where is he?"

With the entirety of the minstrel show cast changing, chatting, and going over routines that needed perfecting before the next night, it was impossible to spot their director. The man was simply nowhere to be found. Even despite the complications, Buffy found this mildly worrisome. A large green demon was not supposed to be able to disappear at random. 

The next fifteen minutes were conducted in strict search mode. They acted alone, as to not want to worry any of the others, though they didn’t hesitate in asking if anyone had seen him. It wasn’t until Cameron—decked out fully in Elton John attire—approached with a worried expression on his face that everyone noted the seriousness of their random mini-crisis.

However, the effect was lost on Spike, who could only stare at Cameron in horror. He barely noted the familiar dog at the boy’s side. The outfit was simply too much. "Oh," he said shortly. "Bugger. When’d you turn into a bleeding fairy?"

"Later," he said dismissively. "It’s Lorne. He’s in the back room." His voice lowered in degrees. "He’s unconscious."

Kelly stared at him blankly, not even remotely distracted by the colorful attire. "What? How? When?"

"Right after everyone started singing. He was watching, and then he gasped, clutched at his head, and was out cold before I could reach him." Cameron looked meaningfully at either paralyzed couples. "Do you know what could be wrong?"

Spike glanced downward guiltily, unable to stop the random flash.

Rosie. So scared. Crying. Shivering. Inquisitive. Honest. "Are you really gonna hurt us?"

Dumbledore. Smug but oblivious. Wise but more foolish than he could ever anticipate. "The chip, you see. I had removed your chip."

Buffy touched his arm tentatively, frowning at the distress on his face. It wasn’t often he showed concern for people and demons as randomly significant in their lives as Lorne. "Are you all right?"

A beat. He shook his head, shoving the images away with a forced smile. "Yeah," he said. He glanced up to Cameron. "Tell us when he wakes up, would you? There’s a few things ‘d like to…yeah, just…"

But he couldn’t finish. Couldn’t think for the images running through his head. Before anyone could offer any more inquiries, Spike had turned and sprinted up the corridor.

*~*~*

Spike and Lorne weren’t seen till dinner. Lorne had a few exceptions since Kelly decided that she should see him because of her nursing experience and Wesley also insisted on seeing the Host. Spike remained unfound until he walked through the Great Hall doors no matter the hour that Zack and Buffy spent in search.

Lorne refused to talk about his incident even after he sat down to eat. "Too many voices at once is all," he replied with little conviction. "Need to remember that for tomorrow night."

When Spike entered the room he wouldn’t give anyone a look in the eyes except his wife. Buffy sensed his desire for quiet, so she too said nothing to invoke conversation.

In fact, tensions were quite high until Rosie broke the silence. "This is fun. I like this. Is everyone having fun?"

Zack didn’t know what to say. He knew that it wasn’t all that fun with the bickering that was slowly beginning to come about. Willow and Oz and Lisa and Xander. Also Josh and Ferris were getting short tempered, despite the money. But, he wasn’t going to leave his daughter hanging. "You bet we are, Sweetie. What do you want to do after the show’s done?"

As Rosie opened her mouth to respond, Lisa muttered for all the table to hear, "Maybe she would like to teach me how to get red paint out of cashmere."

"Sod the bleeding cloth," Spike snapped coming out of his daze for the first time. "And leave the Bit alone."

Rosie scrunched her nose and was about to blatantly stick out her tongue at Lisa, but Kelly and Buffy caught the move and covered her mouth.

"So maybe we could check out London," Dawn offered the silence.

"That sounds like a great idea," Giles quickly confirmed. "There’s always something to do there. Shopping, sightseeing, and dining."

"And you can find a woman," Kelly said giving the Watcher a sweet look that made him smile bashfully in return. At times, it was more than evident where Rosie got her looks.

"Well, I don’t know about that, Kelly." Giles smiled. "I am getting a bit rusty in the courting department."

"Well, you’re definitely rusty in the department of come-on detection," Lisa muttered.

"GOD!" Xander said tossing his fork down and pushing his chair away from the table. "Is there some man here you didn’t try to bed? And Giles?"

"Hey," Kelly and Buffy said in defense of the Watcher. Kelly added, "He is ruggedly handsome." When Buffy gave her a look she went further. "In a mature distinguished way. Not in the cart-me-off-to-bed-Rupert kind of way."

"Just stop," Zack said putting his hand over his wife’s. "Remember when I was telling you about my old girlfriend Melia? Well…you’re doing it again."

"Wait a minute," Xander said. "Is there a man here that hasn’t been hit on by my wife?"

Not even Dumbledore spoke up in response. "Well, she didn’t try to do more than flirt did she?"

"If it makes you feel any better," Zack offered. "I think you and me are the only guys here she’s kissed."

"You kissed her?" Dawn asked with disgust.

"High school. Back then I was a kissing slut," he said making the young Summers blush.

Ferris and then Josh slowly raised their hands. "What?!?" Xander cried.

"I was cornered," Josh defended.

"And I didn’t know she was married," Ferris defended.

"How did you not know—" Zack began before stopping himself. "Never mind that thought."

"Kissing slut," Stephen teased.

"She tried, but even if I hadn’t been hooked up, I wouldn’t take Harris’s leftovers,"

"Yes you did," Anya interjected into the conversation. "Remember we slept together right after Xander left me."

Buffy growled and Kelly tried to keep her restrained her chair. Luckily, Spike leaned over and whispered his love and gave her a peck on the cheek. That sated the anger some, but she still gave Anya another dirty glance.

"I suggest that we possibly wrap up dinner and continue with rehearsals," Willow tried. "I think that it will be best for the show tomorrow."

"Agreed," The table said unambiguously except for Oz, who still wouldn’t say a word to Willow since the incident occurred.


	11. Chapter 11

It took an hour to get the guys back into the dressing rooms and primped for their performance. Everyone decided that the next number would be the last of the evening.

"Don’t take this in any wrong way, but can you help me with my girdle?" Zack asked Spike across the room. He walked over awkwardly, trying to get the garment to fasten.

Spike snickered. "Bloody poofter." Then he said in all seriousness. "Only if you help me too."

"Deal," Zack said. They put all embarrassment aside in front of each other as they continued dressing, but both went red, as much as they possibly could, when Lorne walked in.

"Hello, ladies," Lorne cackled. "Looks like there’s a couple boys looking to become men tonight."

Zack straightened his headband. "Yeah. This isn’t going to sound manly, but what’s a snood?"

"Really. I don’t know how we wear one if we don’t know what the bloody hell it is."

"You have to wear one," Lorne stammered. "But I don’t know what the hell one is either."

"Great. That’s just bloody perfect." Then Spike turned to Zack and asked in a much more sincere tone, "Speaking of which, is my bow straight?" The blonde reached over and gave the headband a tweak before nodding.

"Make sure you get your garters on," Lorne quipped. "And roll those sleeves up more. Show a little muscle.

"I have a feeling I’m not going to like this," Spike grumbled.

"I have a feeling you’re going to hate this."

"Zangy, we don’t have a pal in the army, so what are we doing this for?"

They both paused and looked at each other for a moment. The Host looked at the two with worry. Then, the moment broke when the blond duo simultaneously nodded and said, "Money."

It took a second before Zack commented. "You know that Washington was in the army."

"You know I’m doing this for more than any bill Washington was on."

"Touché, but they were probably in the military too, so we actually are doing this for a pal in the army."

"Wanker," the vampire said with a smile. He then turned to director. "All right. We’re dressed but for the snood and we’ll put ‘em on when you give a definition. So, I think it’s time to get the show started."

"Yup, we got the sashes, headbands, bracelets, garters, girdles, and fluffy fans," Zack said doing a check of their attire.

There was a knock on the door. Then Rosie called through the door. "The band is ready. Can I see you guys?"

Zack opened the door and the little girl giggled as she saw her dad’s getup. "Hey, just look at Uncle Spike."

Rosie laughed so hard at Spike that he didn’t know whether to be amused or offended. After a couple of minutes, she began to hiccup. "You look—"hiccup "—crazy, Uncle Spike—" hiccup.

"Thanks, Sweetie. Love you, but you better go out to your mum and auntie." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

As the hiccupping, but happy child ran out, Lorne gave Spike a sharp look. Spike somberly nodded back, before picking up his fan. "Let’s go."

Everyone was again present for the rehearsal. Lorne didn’t even try to give the speech he gave earlier in the day. He knew that the men would do their best and try to work the crowd. Both men, but one in particular, had so much pain and emotion in their minds, that Lorne refused to watch the number. He stayed in the dressing room as the two made it to the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The symphony conductor said, rendering everyone to silence. "An impromptu surprise for you. The Haynes Sisters."

The men had come to the stage hiding their faces, but when the music began, Zack and Spike folded the oversized blue fluffy fans to reveal their faces. Everyone was simply hysterically amused by the sight before their eyes, but when the blond duo began to sing in their own rich voices, awe began to creep into many spectator’s expressions

"Sisters, sisters. There were never such devoted sisters." After Spike initially tried to cover Zack’s face, both men sintered forward to the beat.

The two separated from their synchronization when Zack stepped to the side and posed with his fan behind his head, hips swaying. "Never had to have a chaperone, no sir."

"I'm there to keep my eye on her," Spike said pointing a finger after smack Zack in the chest with the fan.

They gave each other a theatrically annoyed look as they sang together, "Caring, sharing. Every little thing that we are wearing." Zack still posed with the fan above his head as he knocked Spike rhythmically with his hips, causing Spike to reciprocate the gesture for the rest of the mini-duet. The crowd was in hysterics.

"When a certain gentleman arrived from Rome," Zack took over again, stepping out and away from Spike before stepping back and dropping his fan at the vampire’s feet.

Spike bent down and picked up the other man’s fan before saying with a little more smirk, "She wore the dress, and I stayed home."

"All kinds of weather, we stick together," they said as they both gathered their fans in their own hands again, and placed the behind their heads. "The same in the rain and sun - EW!" They flipped them up on the last word. Then Spike tried to nonchalantly cover Zack’s face again. Zack gave dirty glances as they sang the line. "Two different faces, but in tight places," Morris filed in behind the Cockney for "We think and we act as one -" turning their faces innocently out for everyone to see their similar expressions. "Eh huh."

Zack came forward again as they sang, "Those who've seen us, know that not a thing could come between us." They lined up again next to each other and folded their fans, shoulders bobbing slightly as they swayed the fans back and forth. "Many men have tried to split us up, but no one can." A mini-tap dance number erupted as they danced back a few steps.

"Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister," They sang with their fans splayed across their fronts. They looked at each other towards the end of the line and gave each other a sickly sweet smile, which invoked the crowd to giggles.

"And lord help the sister, who comes between me and my man," They tried to give each other stern looks, but couldn’t quite make it.

More dancing ensued at the break and Zack’s enthusiastic expression and more theatrical steps already had the crowd riled before he gleefully hit Spike in the chest as they sang, "Sisters!"

A bit more dancing followed by another fan beating. "Sisters!" Came out on the verge as giggles as the two men were getting tickled with one another

When they faced one another, they knew that they couldn’t contain their laughter much longer. "Sister, don't come between me and my man!" Zack stepped in behind Spike as the final notes of the music approached and Spike kneeled down slightly so both men’s faces and fans could be seen by the crowd.

With the final chord in the pit, both Zack and Spike lost it and began to laugh. The audience followed suit as they cheered and applauded, but all close to the two could notice the genuine pleasure the guys took in the silly act just performed.

The men bowed, more rather, curtsied, before running off the stage still laughing. "That was…hilarious," Zack said still gasping for breath.

"Yeah," Spike couldn’t deny, still laughing himself. "You were a bit too comfortable dancing like a dame, there mate."

Zack merely gave him a look saying that he could say the same, but then Kelly and Buffy ran on stage and took their husbands in their arms. "That was wonderful," Kelly said giving her husband a kiss. Buffy gave her husband and a nod and a kiss as well. Then briefly the women leaned over and gave the other man a peck on the cheek, congratulating them as well. Then they turned back to their husband’s embraces.

Lorne stepped out of the dressing room. "I assume that things went well?"

"Yes," Buffy said emphatically. "It went off beautifully and they sang it—" she cut herself off and turned to the guys. "You guys sang! You actually sang it!"

"Glad you liked it, love," Spike beamed, planting another kiss on her lips.

"I’m hoping that I don’t jinx anything," Kelly said. "But I think that this trip might be perfect after all. In fact, I’m feeling much better about everything." Her and the male vampire shared a glance. Kelly smiled warmly at him and gave him a small smile signifying that she was on the verge of making her pregnancy known to her husband.

Everyone noticed the shared secret glance, but no one said a word. Zack could not help himself and bristled in his wife’s embrace. The secrecy was something that he couldn’t bear.

"Let’s hope," Buffy said. No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, Kelly’s jinx began to take light. Kelly got a horrible look of pain on her face and clutched he stomach. Zack was still dwelling on his insecurities that he didn’t first notice.

"Kel," Spike said dropping his arms from around the Slayer’s waist and taking Kelly’s arm.

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"You all right?" The worrisome tone brought Zack back to reality.

"Kelly?"

"I’m… I’m fine. I guess that I ate something that didn’t agree with me."

Spike could see that something was on his buddy’s mind, so he quickly volunteered, "Here, ‘ll take you back to your room."

"Thanks," Kelly replied, struggling to find a smile.

"I can," Zack said a little defensively.

"Don’t worry ‘bout it, Zangy. We’ll clear this up," Spike said thumping his friend on the back for good measure before wrapping an arm around Kelly’s arm to steady her and walking her toward their rooms. As soon as they were out of immediate earshot with their backs turned, he whispered, "What’s wrong? it’s it the baby?"

"Don’t worry. Baby just didn’t like what I had for dinner," she caught his skeptical look. "Trust me. Same with thing always happened with Rosie."

"Really?"

"I was just home by the time it happened, so you didn’t usually see. Just help me back to the room in case I get sick."

"Sure thing," The Cockney said flashing a grin.

Kelly leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "We’re so glad to have you as a friend."

"I know," Spike said, causing Kelly to giggle.

As that was taking place, Zack was fuming about his wife’s and best friend’s extra chumminess. Buffy didn’t know what to say because she was finding Spike’s unexplained eagerness a little strange herself.

Lorne walked over and placed a hand on Zack’s shoulder. "Don’t go there. He’s your friend. Your best friend."

"Sorry if that argument doesn’t work with me," he snapped back.

"Well, you know they both love you very much. Trust me."

"Again with the not working."

"It’s all in your head. He doesn’t have time to mess with your wife now even if he was attracted. But trust me he’s a Spike and Buffy shipper all the way. See," he said gesturing to the doorway.

Unfortunately, the angle of sight and the timing were completely wrong. What the three saw looked more along the lines as a kiss on the lips than the smack that Kelly planted on his cheek. It was assumed that they thought that they were out of sight, with their arms around each other, when they giggled. "Well, let’s just say, that doesn’t count," Wesley said meekly.

"Ph, that bloody well counted," Zack snapped before turning to Buffy. "They really think that they’re pulling one over on us. God, how stupid can we get?"

"Maybe it was wrong," Buffy said with uncertainty. Buffy knew what he looked like from that angle.

"There’s only one way to find out," Zack said stomping off toward the guest rooms. He was seeing red with his jealousy in full swing. In his mind, this was making sense to all the secrets that were being shared between the two and the strange behaviors that Spike was having.

"I bet it started after they got here," Zack said to Buffy as they marched on. "You’ve notice how they’ve been extra touchy feely. And Spike’s been acting extra weird. Has he?"

Buffy couldn’t deny that there was a little separation between the two of them, but she hadn’t felt that it had been anything serious. But the kiss was right before her eyes when she knew that they had to assume they were about out of sight.

"And Kelly was trying to blame this all on me. I bet she seduced him. Who am I kidding? Nobody seduces Spike unless he wants to be seduced. Either way, I know there was seducing."

When they walked in Zack and Kelly’s room, the bathroom door was shut. The latest arrivals didn’t know that Kelly had just been sick and that Spike volunteered to hold her hair in her husband’s absence.

"God, do you always do that?" Spike groaned.

"Uh huh," Kelly said wrinkling her nose. "Hope you don’t mind too much. I may want to do it again before it’s all over."

"No, no," Spike said. "Take your time. Don’t mind."

Kelly sat down on the seat after she closed the lid. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem," Spike said fumbling around in his duster for his cigarettes.

"Do you hear that?" Zack said as him and Buffy propped their ears up to the door. "Clothes are being removed."

"Damn," Spike mumbled, opening a new pack of Marlboros. "Why do they wrap these things so much?" He fumbled with the plastic wrapper.

"Oh God," Buffy gasped. "Is that a…condom?"

Kelly’s voice was heard. "I don’t know, but don’t point that thing in my direction." Kelly was indicating the cigarette. "I don’t let Zack get away with it, so I won’t let you."

"Sorry, but it’s tight in here."

"Fine," Kelly sighed. "Just this once."

"She’s letting him do kinkier things than she let me?" Zack said horrified. "And we’ve done really bad stuff."

"Zack!" the Slayer whispered trying to hear more of what was being said.

As Spike inhaled the first drag, he sighed with the relief the much-needed nicotine sent him. "Oh God, Kel," he practically moaned. "You don’t know how bad I needed that." He then turned his gaze and words to the cigarette. "I’ve wanted you for hours."

"Glad to help the cause," Kelly said. "Besides, I’m feeling better now too."

"Better hurry this up then. The Slayer is trying to cut me back and Zangy has no idea ’bout your knowledge of things," he said meaning Zack and Spike’s smoking. He put the cigarette out and straightened his duster.

"Don’t worry," Kelly teased. "They’ll never find out our dirty little secret."

A minute went by as Kelly freshened herself up. Zack and Buffy were standing in the doorway with angry and hurt expressions on their face.

Spike and Kelly were startled to find the two right there when the doors opened. "Oh…hi," Kelly said sheepishly.

"No time for small talk," Zack growled. "Because we know the dirty little secret."

"Oh dear," Spike said as he caught sight of Buffy’s gaze. "There’s a perfectly plausible explanation." He was so taken aback by the sight though that he said, "If you give me a minute to think ’bout it."

"Should have thought about that before you started sleeping with my wife."

"I guess I did jinx us," Kelly muttered pathetically.

Spike’s eyes went wide. "Hold on, now!" he snarled. "I’m not sleeping with anyone’s wife, except my own."

The Slayer shook her head, and a visible flash of pain crossed her husband’s gaze at the hurt he saw there. While Zack’s accusations that morning had been ridiculous, a part of him had been prepared to bruise. Slater’s reappearance had performed all sorts of wonders on his pal’s psyche—and getting him worried about potential infidelity where Kelly was concerned was only a start. But Buffy…god, to see that look in her eyes? As though she… 

Then she was speaking, and cut through him beyond reproach. "Don’t even bother," she snapped. "We heard everything."

"You heard…" Kelly’s eyes widened comically, though there was no humor in the situation. "Spike was just helping me! He—"

"Please," Buffy said in disgust, moving away before her eyes could flood with tears. "Spare me the details."

"What sodding details?" The vampire was getting livid now. He made a move to go to his wife, but Zack coolly stepped in his way, eyes flashing dangerously. Granted that he was blocking a notoriously brutal demon from comforting the woman he loved, he looked amazingly calm. Probably for the smug satisfaction that even if he wanted to do something, the chip would prevent his action.

One punch would clear that clause up in a jiffy, but Spike knew better. If anything, now was not the time. However, for the first time in their association, his bumpies emerged as direct challenge to his best friend’s status. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended when he received not so much as a flicker in return. "if you know what’s good for you," he growled. "You’ll let me tend to my wife."

"Doesn’t look to me like your wife wants you to tend to her."

"Step aside before I move you."

Zack snickered. "I’d like to see you try. I don’t think I brought any Excedrin with me."

Spike’s eyes blazed challengingly. His temper was rising to catastrophic proportions, and if he didn’t get a hold of himself soon, he wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions. A callous snarl sounded through the air and his neon eyes brightened with malicious intent. However, before he could follow through with any of the nasty, demonesque voices that were fluttering through his head, Kelly’s voice cut through the tension.

"Buffy," she said desperately. "I know…I know how it must’ve sounded. And maybe you and Zack have every right not to trust me. I know I’ve done some questionable stuff in the past—"

Spike’s features melted back to human when he realized what she was doing. "Kel—" he protested.

"But Spike wouldn’t ever do that to you. Either one of you. If you’re not going to believe me, at least believe him." She took a step toward Buffy desperately. "He loves you so much."

"Hmmm, how sweet," Zack drawled, voice dripping with disdain. "It never ceases to amaze me just how much of a ‘throw yourself to the lions’ person you are, Kelly. Martyr complex much?"

"You’d do well to listen to her, mate," Spike growled, even if his eyes were pleading. "Buffy-luv, you gotta believe me. I’d never…" His eyes widened as the imminence of his own breakdown drew closer. "You’re my…my reason, Buffy…" With ferocity, he glanced back to his friend, ignoring the hurt that lay waiting under anger. "Did you do this?" he snarled. "Did you start filling her head with rubbish because of your bloody insecurities? God help me, Morris, I’ll—"

"SPIKE!" Buffy wheeled to face him sharply, and it nearly killed him to see the pain in her eyes. "Stop it. Just, stop. We heard you. There is nothing to deny, so don’t waste your lack of breath trying. It’s over."

He choked a sob. "You can’t mean that."

"Sounded like she meant it to me," Zack said solemnly.

"Sod off!" Spike shook his head with a deranged giggle. "God, this is a nightmare. Please tell me it’s a nightmare. You don’t even know what you heard!"

"I heard enough to make a pretty good guess," Zack snapped. "And to be honest, you two haven’t exactly been discreet. What with the secrecy and the giggling and the casual touches that weren’t-so-casual and the—"

"I don’t believe you," Kelly said, stunned, shaking her head. "You really wanna know what’s been going on? Fine. I asked Spike to help me with a problem I had—"

"Oh yeah," her husband spat. "He sure helped, didn’t he?"

"Because I didn’t know how you would react—"

"If this is any indication," Spike drawled, "’d say not well."

Kelly plowed right through the interruption. "—and I promised him to secrecy."

"So you decided to fuck my best friend and see where that led you?" Zack speculated cruelly. "Again?!"

Kelly’s eyes filled with tears at the harshness of his words, but before she could open her mouth to retort, a small voice filled the room. All gazes turned to see Rosie standing dumbfound in the doorway with Dawn beside her.

"Daddy?" the girl asked softly.

"Sorry," Dawn immediately apologized. "She wanted to know where everyone had gone. I heard voices and…"

Rosie had raced inward at the tears scalding down Spike’s face; of everyone in the room, he was having the most difficulty holding onto his emotions. With a quick glance of embarrassment, he turned away from her, but couldn’t resist it when she started pulling at his pant-leg.

"Don’t you dare touch my daughter!" Zack snapped when he saw the vampire turn to pick her up.

Spike, even through his mess of tears, found it within himself to grace his friend with the two-finger salute. "Stuff it, Morris."

"I mean it, Spike. Get your hands off of her."

Rosie’s eyes widened and she clutched at her uncle with more fervor. "Daddy?" she asked. "But, I wanna—" Before she could finish the thought, Spike had conceded his defeat and deftly lowered his godchild to the floor. 

"Sorry, poodle," he murmured. "’S not my place."

"Finally got that through your thick skull, did ya?"

"Zack, this has gone too far!" Kelly shouted, sending Dawn down the hallway without further provocation. "Spike has every right to see Rosie. You can’t be that much of a prick!"

"Again with the ‘throwing yourself to the lions’ complex. Gee, Kel. I’m touched."

Rosie looked desperately to Buffy, who in turn was doing her damndest not to meet her husband’s pleading eyes. "Why is everyone fighting?" she asked, her own gaze flooding with tears. While the child was amazingly perceptive, there were simply some things she was too young to grasp.

"It’s complicated, Sweet Pea," Buffy murmured.

"You wanted the full story? Fine; here it is." Kelly gestured at herself emphatically. "Spike’s been helping me deal, because I didn’t know how you would take the news."

Spike looked up as he fully realized for the first time what she was about to do. "Kelly," he began. "Stop. You don’t have to do this."

"Yes I do."

"Not like this. This isn’t how he should find out."

"Well, I was dumb for bringing you in on this in the first place. I didn’t realize what an utter and complete bastard my husband was." She purposefully ignored the gasp that rumbled through her daughter’s throat at the unabashed use of profanity in front of her, especially from someone that wasn’t her father or uncle. "But you’ve helped me more than…"

"I really don’t want to hear this," Buffy decided, placing Rosie on the ground.

"You need to," Kelly insisted. "Please." Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to her husband. "Zack…I’m pregnant."

The entire room froze for a long, cold moment. The look behind her husband’s eyes was unreadable—not joyous, not angered. Just nothing. 

Finally, when the silence was too thick to tolerate, Kelly took a desperate step forward. "Did you hear me? Zack, I’m—"

The sound of his name seemed to bring him out of whatever daze he was in, and without warning, he had snapped over to Spike and was smashing his fist into the vampire’s jaw. The force of impact was by surprise rather than pain, and sent his former best friend crashing into the dresser.

"Spike!" Kelly gasped, immediately going to his side.

Rosie let out a long scream and ran from the room. None of the adults made any attempt to follow her on some subconscious knowledge that she needed to be around people who were not them right now.

Spike’s eyes widened as his cautiously rubbed his jaw. "Okay, that didn’t go over as well as ‘d hoped." He looked up and gauged the look in his friend’s eyes, and a disbelieving choke rumbled through his system. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

"What?" Kelly asked, glancing up to her husband.

"He thinks the kid’s mine." Spike wearily rose to his feet. "You’re thicker than I thought, you stupid git."

"We heard you," Zack spat harshly. "With the…bathroom sex and the condoms."

"Condoms?" Spike repeated incredulously. "Okay, this is getting…" He shook his head, another long, deranged laugh escaping his lips. "Why on sodding earth would a vampire need condoms?"

"Oh, I don’t know," the other man snapped. "Why don’t I go ask Angel?"

"That was for-sodding-ever ago!" the Cockney protested. "All more besides, it was prophesized. And I can tell you right now that there’s bollix in there ‘bout me and Kel. You know why? There is no bloody ‘me and Kel’. There might be something in there ‘bout her husband and what a bleeding insecure wanker he is, but it has nothing to do with yours truly. And while my swimmers thank you for the compliment, they respectfully suggest that you dig your head out of your arse before you suffocate."

It was quite possibly the worst thing he could have said in the given situation, but Spike was too foregone to care. Whatever happened between Zack and Kelly was unfortunate, but he was hardly to blame for the other man’s petty fears. However, if his so-called friend did anything to muck up his relationship with Buffy…especially after everything he had gone through, sacrificed, to get where he was in the unlife. He was William the Fucking Bloody, and he took this from no one.

It was Zack’s misfortune that he didn’t realize it, for the next instant the younger man had all but projected himself onto the vampire’s body, and was furiously swinging at him, trying to clout any exposed flesh that he could get his hands on. The screams of protest from Kelly went ignored, as did the look of stunned, near catatonic indifference from the Slayer. Oh, she seemed mildly torn, but the hurt was too great to attempt to intervene. 

Fuck this. He wasn’t going to lay prostate and take it. With a terrific roar and the reemergence of his bumpies, Spike caught Zack’s next flying wrist and twisted until the man cried out in pain. He snarled and walloped him once in turn, using the advantage to roll to his feet. When he was standing, his eyes flickered meaningfully and he studied the stunned man on the ground. "Oh the pain," he taunted. "The pain…is gone."

There were two stunned gasps from behind, and he felt Buffy whisk back to immediate attention. "What?" she demanded harshly.

"Chip’s out, kitten," he told her without sparing a glance in her direction. "Has been since last night."

Zack had recovered by now and was glaring at him unrepentantly. "So when were you going to tell us this?" he barked, tenderly caressing his sore eye. "Before or after you tore my daughter’s throat out?"

"Oh, come off it already," Spike snapped in turn. "I’d rather bathe in holy water than hurt the Bit, or anyone else, for that matter. If I wanted to, I could’ve killed you two minutes ago—but if it’s escaped your notice, I didn’t. You know why? Didn’t want to." He turned to Buffy then, eyes wide with penance. "Wanted to tell you, love," he assured her. "Wanted to more than anything. But ole Dumbledore had me wired with mojo. Said that ‘d have to bloody well prove myself." A long, humorless chuckle rumbled through his throat. "Seems that went well."

"Dumbledore?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yeah. How’s that for irony? Old git actually thought he was doing me a favor." Spike shook his head, still reeling with disbelief, features melting back to human. "Called it a gift."

"You really expect me to believe that Dumbledore…Dumbledore had your chip removed?" the Slayer demanded. "That he would just…what…let a soulless vampire with a reputation such as yours to go around all unleashed?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I guess that would be asking a bit too much of you," Spike retorted coolly. "Forgot little things like forgiveness and trust weren’t in your sodding vocab. Heaven forbid you ever believe me—your husband—before automatically assuming the worst. And here I was, fool enough to believe we’d gotten passed this stage of our relationship. Oh, and I was never leashed, sweetheart. The chip only made the entire evil thing more difficult: it didn’t take it away. If I’d’ve wanted to, I could’ve killed the lot of you in a number of ways. And yet."

"Don’t you dare try to throw this back at me, you arrogant asshole."

"Not trying, love. Don’t exactly need to." Spike knew he was only digging himself further into his hole, but at the time, he couldn’t care less. The entire idea of trust on probation from the one person who was supposed to give it out in spades was too much to bear. Especially since he hadn’t done anything to have said trust taken from him. "And I expect you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I begged that old bastard to shove the chip back into my cranium ‘cause I knew you’d react like this? ‘Cause I knew that you wouldn’t have any bloody faith in me? And you know what? I sodding accepted it, even if it is wicked unfair. I accepted that you wouldn’t—"

"Why should I believe you?" Buffy shouted. "We have no secrets, Spike! We can’t afford to! Remember?"

"Do I have to repeat myself till my throat collapses? He. Didn’t. Give. Me. A. Bloody. Choice."

"And STOP with the Dumbledore thing already!"

"No kidding," Zack agreed, forming coherent thought truly for the first time since Spike’s revelation was announced. "How gullible do you think we are?"

"I thought you were my family," the vampire said softly, eyes falling and watering once more. "I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me."

"You’ve given me like a thousand!" Buffy snapped.

"Since we got together? Really?" He shook his head with another solemn huff. "Thought we’d outgrown the ‘this is what you were’ phase and were into the ‘I love what you’ve become.’ But no. ‘Course not. We’re back to the same song and dance number. Thank god I didn’t throw away my sheet music. I changed, pet. The chip only means I won’t get a bloody headache every time a rotten pulser decides that I look like a nice punching bag." He spared a glance at Kelly, who was staring at him with mixed fascination and horror. But there was something there that lacked in their counterparts gazes: trust. Faith. Knowledge that he was exactly what he had been the day before. A vampire, yes, but a good man. A friend. Her friend. Their friend. Buffy’s husband. Buffy’s mate. Rosie’s godfather. Rosie’s uncle. William the Bloody—unchipped, but changed. Reformed. Love’s bitch. A man.

For the briefest second, he wished he could have felt something other than candor friendship for the woman. Unconditional trust had to be a nice perk to any relationship.

And yet, the very same was what made Buffy who she was. When he glanced back and saw the look in her eyes, he felt his heart shatter. A thousand pieces of irreplaceable feeling. Wounding and crippling him far worse than Drusilla ever had. And he knew that if she turned a new leaf suddenly, he would accept it. Because he couldn’t bloody well live without…

Spike’s vision flooded with tears again. "How could you ever…ever even think that ‘d do something to fuck up what we have?"

"I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘had’," Zack snapped. "And it’s quite simple after practically walking in on you two with your pants down. And hello! Chip!"

"I bloody well explained the chip!" he snarled. "’S your own fault if you don’t believe me. I might be thick, but I wouldn’t make something up as ridiculous as Dumbledore yanking my wiring out unless it was true. Hell, go ask him if you need to." God, please don’t need to. Trust me, kitten. I’d never… "And you caught us doing rot. I was holding your darling wife’s hair as she yacked into the loo. I don’t know where the bogus ‘condom’ theory came about, but if I had to guess, it’s when I opened a new pack of smokes. And our dirty little secret it’s more like your dirty little secret, Morris. Kel’s caught on that you’ve picked up some of my less attractive habits. Well, the only unattractive habit." Spike shook his head disbelievingly. "And I had the gall to think you’d handle this badly."

"Well, then," Zack said, much too calmly. "I guess you just have an explanation for everything, don’t you?"

"That’s ‘cause everything has an explanation, you dolt."

Zack snickered with a sarcastic nod. "Of course. Well, it’s all perfectly clear to me. Is it to you, Buffy? I mean, we were obviously very wrong to automatically assume that his little ‘I’ve wanted you for hours’ bullshit meant that he’s been sticking it to my wife behind our backs."

Spike flashed back to game face in an instant. "You petty little—"

"I’ve heard enough," Buffy decided softly. Her eyes met her husband’s with fierce resolution. "If you know what’s good for you, stay away from me." And she had turned at the heel and vacated the room before he could voice a rejoinder.

There were no words to describe how it felt to have his insides ripped out. Spike watched her retreat, unable to keep his tears from falling. Worse than any crying jag—he tried to reign control over himself and couldn’t. Couldn’t help the muffled sobs tearing at his throat. Couldn’t help the tremors that seized his body. Couldn’t help…

"Serves you right, you fucking home wrecker."

Couldn’t help reaching back to last Thursday and punching Zack into the wall. The force of impact sent a crack up the stone side, and the man’s eyes went wide as he gauged the magnitude of the vampire’s strength for the first time.

"Yeah," Spike snarled, managing to look frightening even with scalding tears staining his cheeks. It was perhaps one of the most poignantly beautiful things Kelly had ever seen. "And I was holding back. Don’t test me, Zangy. I might just have to show you how soulless I really am."

The words were empty, of course, but they rang in effect just the same. Regardless of what happened from here, if Zack had forever ruined his picture of perfection, there would be no forgiveness. The most important thing in his life…the reason he…

Control was ebbing. Spike knew that he had to get out of the room before he did something he truly regretted. The demon called for blood, but he wouldn’t go that far. He couldn’t.

A shamble of the human condition. A mockery of demon kind. Brokenhearted bloody awful poet.

He really needed a drink.

*~*~*

Buffy was moving too fast to differentiate between shape and color. She was vaguely aware that people were calling to her as she sped through the Hogwarts hallways, but she registered nothing. Not the cries of her sister, not the harrowed demands of her Watcher, not even the still-wailing pleas from a confused child who wanted her well-deserved answers. There was nothing except her reason, and she needed to see Dumbledore. It was simply too unreal to believe without motivation.

The Slayer’s hurry nearly caused her to run into the man himself. While turning the last corner to the corridor that led to his office, she all but crashed into the old wizard and had to take a minute to catch her unneeded breath.

"Mrs. Bloody?" Dumbledore said with concern. "Or is it still Ms. Summers? I can never remember by what name you chose—"

Buffy recovered miraculously and waved off any impediment to her cause. "Is it true?" she demanded. 

"Is what true?"

"Spike’s chip. Did you remove it? He…" Her eyes watered as the effects of everything that had occurred finally caught up with her, and she stifled a sob. "I…he was able to hurt Zack. There was a fight, and he was able to hurt Zack. He said that the chip was out, and that you were the one who took it out. Is it true?"

Dumbledore blinked at her in bewilderment, drawing in the image of a woman in pain, then smiled slowly without maliciousness. "Now," he began, "why would I do something like that?"

*~*~*

"Must sodding remember this for the future," Spike mumbled as he walked disjointedly down the abandoned Hogwarts hallway. "When traveling to a school for youngsters, it’s always essential that you bring your own ruddy drinks."

The past two hours had done an effective number on his system; such to the fact that he couldn’t piece all the details together if he tried. After the disastrous encounter in Zack’s room, Buffy had apparently raced through the school in a desperate effort to verify her husband’s claim. When he found her in a failed attempt to reconcile whatever it was that had gone horribly wrong between them, she had shouted and sobbed and screamed that Dumbledore very plainly insisted that any act of chip removal on his part was preposterous. In response, Spike had shouted and sobbed and screamed that if she really loved him at all, she would believe him over some old sod they had only now met. When she, through a blaze of tears, ordered him out of their room, he had fallen to his knees and begged that she allow him the chance to prove himself. But she was distant—so distant. So unreachable by any standards. 

The encounter had, of course, prompted his own heated journey to the headmaster’s quarters, but Dumbledore was inaccessible. Either he had retired somewhere where only his staff could reach him, or he was simply ignoring the cries of a man in pain.

The second seemed most logical. And while it baffled him that the man would willfully lie to Buffy about his involvement in the chip removal—baffle in the sense of ‘wanted to tear the git’s head off for mucking things up even further—Spike was too lost in his misery to dwell in the more instinctual rage.

Rage would come later. It always did.

It amazed him how quickly things had gone wrong. Only twenty-four hours had passed since Rosie asked him through a façade of tears if he would ever dare hurt any one of them, and somehow, through ill-conceived judgment, he had gone back on his promise.

Zack’s wrist would heal, as would whatever injury he sustained after he was smashed into the wall. And while Spike knew that he deserved it, the notion that he had caused his friend pain egged his conscience more than he cared to admit. The man had likely ruined his marriage, and yet he was still concerned.

He was concerned and yet he wanted to rip the bastard’s throat out. Talk about two sides of a very broad spectrum. He really needed a drink.

Wearily, the vampire made his way to the vacant Great Hall, eyeing dryly the stage that was set for tomorrow’s performance. He wondered if Zack would honor their agreement given recent developments. For whatever reason, he didn’t believe that he could perform the minstrel show with the same idiotic giddiness that had controlled his senses only a few hours ago. Despite the noteworthy monetary compensation, Spike, at the moment, cared bugger little about beseeching a deal concocted with the same man who had lied to his wife’s face. 

Everything was so messed up. 

Spike’s eyes flickered over the room and landed finally on the piano that sat opposite the stage. The same that he had experimented key and tempo changes earlier in the day. With everyone surrounding him. Laughing with him. Trusting and loving and… 

There has to be a bloody pub ‘round here somewhere. These wizarding gits have to slosh themselves once in a while if they put up with all these sodding kids. 

He knew better than to look. Hogwarts was a ‘picture-perfect’ world with ‘picture-perfect’ teachers and ‘picture-perfect’ bollix to mess up and ‘picture-perfect’ situation. There was no booze here. 

None that he could find at the ready, at least. 

Thus instead, Spike turned his attention to the piano, taking a seat as his hands skimmed the length of the keys. As a child, his mother had insisted that he master several of the more popular instruments of the time, and the piano had always been his favorite. Another one of those poncy-habits that the missus never inquired about. He would occasionally wake her in the middle of their rest with haunting notes of symphonies never before composed, and consequentially forgotten when he stood. She never interrupted him as he played, but he always knew when she was there. Her scent would waver from the staircase, and she would intermittently draw in a deep breath when he hit a particularly moving chord. 

Tonight, he just wanted to play. He wanted to do anything that took him away from where he was. 

The first notes of a familiar ballad sounded ethereally through the abandoned halls, stretching across an otherwise still terrain to reach any who might be listening. His own haunted vocals followed, drought with the burden of depression and the weight of one whose heart needed mending. 

"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be…" His hands glided effortlessly over the keys as he willed himself not to get too drawn in by the lyrics. "And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree…there will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see. There will be an answer, let it be…Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. There will be an answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be." 

Sometime in the middle of the bridge—mastered artfully over the piano’s keys—the sound of music perturbed another who was finding sleep to be a distinct impossibility. She followed the sound of forlorn suffering and stopped suddenly when she saw him at the piano. The picture he portrayed was heartbreaking; trying very desperately to keep himself from falling all over again over the edge. His eyes were red and bloodshot from crying, and his fingers—though they never lapsed—quivered over the notes. 

"Whisper words of wisdom, let it be…And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow, let it be. I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comforts me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be…" Spike glanced up and did not break; rather met Kelly’s eyes with wordless understanding and offered a solemn nod before continuing. "There will be an answer, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be…" 

His fingers deftly concluded the piece, and he nodded to her once more in ode to keep himself from breaking down. "Restless night?" 

"To say the least," she agreed, moving into the hall. "I guess it’s fortunate that Lisa and Xander are splitting up. It makes for easier sleeping arrangements." 

"The whelp’s staying in with your prat of a hubby, then?" 

She nodded. "Yeah." 

Spike looked at her for a long minute before allowing his eyes to drift once more to the keyboard. Pale white with occasional bars of black. The very definition of his own existence. "I s’pose I could’ve shacked it up with Ripper," he murmured. "Lord knows that wouldn’t’ve been anything new. But I…I just couldn’t…" 

Kelly smiled softly and took another step inward. "Sleep without her?" 

He nodded miserably. "Yeah." A minute passed, and a humorless chuckle rang through the air. He had been entertaining a lot of those tonight. "What a wanker, huh?" 

"It wasn’t all his fault," she immediately defended. "Well, the rather ridiculous assumption that we were sleeping together was, but I guess it was only natural after all the secrecy. Zack has every reason not to trust—" 

"I was talking ‘bout yours truly, pet, but I gotta say, the sentiment’s appreciated." Spike tilted his head slightly and considered her. "But, while we’re on that, I gotta say that you’re completely and utterly wrong." 

"Am I?" 

"Yeah. I might be a jerk, but Zack’s mind was made up before he even sought us out. It was practically from this morning. And yeah—not all if it it’s his fault—but he is an ass for automatically assuming the worst." He broke with a sigh and shook his head. "I just…how can she…how can she ever think that I’d…" 

A thin smile crossed Kelly’s lips, and she moved inward completely, walking with caution to the piano. "I know," she said softly. "She’s dumb, deaf, and blind if she thinks you’d ever go behind her back. It’s kind of sickening, the way you love her." 

"Thanks ever so." 

"Sickening as in I feel like Zack will never love me like that," came the rapid amend, followed by the obligatory silent prompt for her to continue. "Even if we get passed this…even…no matter how much she hurts you, you take her back." 

Spike snickered dryly. "Not exactly an exercise of strength, pet." 

"You know what I mean. Not like I hurt Zack…but like tonight…because you understand why she has these…fears." Kelly averted her gaze sharply to her hands. "Does that make sense?" 

"Yeah. Too much." Spike sighed and ran a hand through his platinum strands. "I might be love’s bitch, Kel, and I might crawl on my hands and knees across a football field of crosses and holy water and everything else of that nature…but she has to come off her high and mighty horse sometime and admit that she was being a presumptuous bitch." 

"That seems fair." 

"I just…I love her more than anything…and I’m tired of trying to prove it." 

Kelly patted his back reassuringly and sat beside him on the piano-stool when he moved obligingly to accommodate her. "She does get it, you know. She understands. She’s just…scared."

"And I’m not? My heart’s on the line, here." 

"Trust me, so is hers. I walked past your…her room on the way here. She was crying so much that it’s going to be a wonder if anyone on our floor gets any sleep." 

Spike’s lips quirked into a small smile. "There’s a comforting bit of cold comfort. Don’t want her to be miserable, but…" 

"But you do?" 

"Wouldn’t be a lie if I said the thought of her not being able to sleep without me it’s something I could get used to." 

A long note of silence spread through the air. Kelly took another deep breath and leaned forward resignedly. "It’s amazing that you’re not furious with me." 

He looked at her askance. "How you figure, love?" 

"Because if you…if you hadn’t been keeping my secrets…you and Buffy—" 

"Rot, Kel, and you bloody well know it. It’s not your fault. Having a baby it’s no one’s fault. Like I said to you not two days ago, it’s something beautiful and warm, and Zack’s a bleeding git for not seeing it." They shared an affectionate smile before he turned his attention back to the keys and began playing again. "When I'm worried and I can't sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep. And I fall asleep counting my blessings. When my bankroll is getting small, I think of when I had none at all. And I fall asleep counting my blessings… 

"I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads. And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds." He took a deep breath as his voice finally cracked, emotion getting to him on levels of incomprehensible responsibility. "If you're…worried and you can't sleep…just count your blessings…" He choked a sob, barely aware of her hands at his shoulder, coaxing and soothing as he began to crack. "…instead of sheep. A-and you'll fall asleep counting your blessings…" 

Kelly immediately took him into her embrace as he dissolved; resistance at a minimal. He would hold nothing back because of pride. The jerks came just as wittingly as the sobs that wracked his body, and he buried his head in her shoulder. 

And wept. 

*~*~*

The mortal blond decided that he wasn’t going to find rest with his current roommate. Xander had wanted to do nothing but woman bashing and he didn’t quite have the heart to start talking about his relationship with Kelly in the past tense. So, he began his journey of aimless wondering. 

Secretly, he had a purpose. He didn’t want to admit it even to himself, but he was in search of his wife. Since their wedding night, they had never spent a night apart in anger. Kelly believed the saying that a couple should never go to be mad. Though he tried to earlier in their marriage, the past few years, they had settled all their major differences before curling up to sleep. 

Walking the halls seemed like patrolling to him. He had spent many nights without his wife while he combed the darkness for evil. Kelly rarely patrolled with him because she liked to have one of Rosie’s parents with her at night. Plus, with an actual job, as a nurse at the hospital and needed to get ample sleep if she wasn’t on duty in the emergency room. 

Still he wanted to see his wife. His anger had slowly begun to calm and he decided that he should probably talk to her once before declaring an end to the best thing that ever happened to him. He went to Lisa’s room, only to find that his wife was nowhere to be found. He had searched every room that Kelly might be and the Great Hall was his last stop. He secretly knew that she would be in there from the beginning, but he hadn’t totally summoned his courage to see her and face the music. 

But he decided that it was time. He heard muffled cries and tore apart to think that his wife was in such pain. Zack pushed the door open and walked in. He had a soothing word on the tip of his tongue, but the sight of Kelly and Spike again in each other’s arms tore it straight from his mind. "Why the fuck am I surprised?" He said coldly and calm, even though pain and hysteria was just below the surface. 

Spike pulled away with a jerk at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state, but relaxed a bit when he recognized the face. "Bloody hell, Morris. Do you just wait outside the door for the one opportunity for yeah to come in and muck everything up a little more?" 

"Yes," Zack said sarcastically. "That’s exactly what I do. Speaking of which, do you just wait outside the door for the one opportunity for you to come in and muck everything up? For instance: my marriage." 

"Safe to say that was your own mucking. I was just trying to help. And shagging your wife is no man’s idea of helping." 

"So, at least I know that you weren’t trying to help me when you did it. That makes it all better then?" 

"Please," Kelly sobbed. "I can’t anymore of this. Not now. No matter how I might deserve it. I just can’t." 

"Me neither," Spike growled as he headed for the door. With his back turned to the couple he said, "Hope you’re happy, Zangy. Nothing feels better than making your lady cry. Just know that those tears are all your fault." With that, the door to the Great Hall slammed shut, leaving the Morris couple alone. 

"So this all my fault now?" Zack said after a moment of awkward silence. He began pacing back and forth as Kelly sat with her shoulders slumped at the piano bench. 

"No. Well, the jumping to conclusions possibly, but not the reasons why." She was hugging herself as she talked to the floor. 

"Well, I think any jumping to conclusions could go back to you too," he snapped. 

"Yeah. No argument here. I can see this all as my fault." The shame in her voice was unmistakable. 

"Well, that’s fine and dandy. Glad my wife having another affair with my closest friend isn’t my fault. Because with the pattern I was seeing, I thought that maybe I was giving you the all clear signal to take off and sleep with my chums. Good thing that we aren’t back in L.A. ‘cause I wouldn’t really want to share you with my dad too." 

"Stop, Zack!" Kelly pleaded as the sobs erupted once more. 

"Well, I think that thought is more disturbing than you sleeping with Spike." 

"I know. And I would sleep with Spike before your father…oh God. I don’t want to sleep with either one." 

"Just like you didn’t want to sleep with Slater? Geez Kelly, do you even want to sleep with me?" His tone was getting more and bitterer with every passing second. This wasn’t that calm talk he had planned in his mind, but he didn’t plan to have Spike in the vicinity when it all took place. 

"Yes, I want to sleep with you. And, no. Slater and Spike are different. I…I slept. I slept with Slater," she stuttered as she fought back the tears. "But I never had sex with Spike. None. No sexual relations of any kind. Not even a sexual thought. I swear." 

"You never were going to tell me about Slater," Zack said dropping the latest infidelity completely. He would deal with her denial later. But, the cards were dealt and he was ready to go over the hands and lay them on the table. "If Slater hadn’t been drunk, then you two were never going to tell. Tell me I’m wrong, Kelly. Just tell me that I’m wrong." 

Kelly merely looked down at the floor. She shook her head to symbolize that she couldn’t honestly contradict his statement. After she realized what had happened between her and Slater, she agreed with him that it wouldn’t be in anyone’s, especially Zack’s best interest to find out about what happened. 

"Tell me what happened that night," Zack said suddenly stopping and staring straight at her. The anger was replaced by hurt and need in his tone as he made the request. He whispered his request again on the verge of tears. "I need to know." 

Kelly nodded as she looked up at her husband for the first time. When their eyes met, she didn’t look away, though the shame was still present, but looked deep into his hazel orbs. "Well… you were out of town. It was when you were going to Los Angeles a lot. Remember that you were wanting to get started up dealing with your dad?" 

Zack nodded as he glared back at her with his arms folded across his chest. In a sad way, the scene was similar to an irate cop questioning the criminal in the back room. "I remember," he vocalized in a way of telling her to continue. 

"Yeah… well. Slater came over after work and said that he wanted to hang. Like the good old days, we joked. So, he brought some Chianti and I made popcorn," She stopped to sniffle. "I thought that we’d watch some old movies or look through our yearbooks. Something fun like that. I even was baking some cookies. I think chocolate chip—" 

"Your point," He said with a harsh tone. Possibly a bit more so that he meant, but neither was entirely sure. 

"My point is that we didn’t. We talked and he wanted me to have a drink. You know I don’t like too, but after a while, I thought that I would and I might make his change the subject. Well, no. One led to another. Then another. I admit that I don’t know how many I had, but enough that I was drunk." She turned away briefly in disgust before looking in his eyes again. "I know that it’s not an excuse. I don’t try to make one. Really, I can’t even tell you why I slept with him. I don’t know. I ask myself every single day of my life. ‘Why did I hurt the man I love?’ ‘Why did I betray his trust?’ I don’t have answers." 

"You mean that you just decided to sleep with the man?" Zack said in complete and utter shock. He wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. 

"No. I mean that I woke up the next morning and couldn’t remember why I had made the choices I did. I… still don’t know. I must’ve said something or did something… to give an impression of desire, but I don’t remember it." 

"Not the answer I was aiming for," the blonde drawled. 

"Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you," She said bitterly before changing her tone back to misery to add, "Again. I don’t have the answers and Slater said that it didn’t matter. What was done was done. And he was right. I couldn’t change what had happened." 

"So why didn’t you tell me what you did?" 

"Because I didn’t want to hurt you. Yes, I know there was selfishness behind it too. I knew that…that things would never be the same. So, there. There’s your bloody reasons." 

Zack expelled his long held breath shakily. "He told you not to tell me, didn’t he?" 

"But I chose to listen. I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to do any of it." 

"And he didn’t tell you what happened when you were… drunk?" His tone was softer, but he hadn’t moved an inch since coming to a stop. He still looked at her with a tilted head and folded arms. 

She shook her head, then looked back to the ground as she hugged herself tighter. Then slowly she pulled her eyes back to his. "I’m sorry." With that she got up. "I know that there is more to say, but I can’t do anymore tonight. Tomorrow perhaps. But not now. I love you, Zack. I always will. Despite what you probably think, I would never try to hurt you. But goodnight." She paused a moment in front of him, possibly contemplating kissing him, before she slowly walked past him and out of the room. 

Zack left the Great Hall with more questions than he entered with. 

*~*~* 

The night proved to be restless for everyone. After their second confrontation, Kelly returned to her room and woefully spilled the entire story to an eager Lisa, who was always at the ready for some really juicy gossip. She comforted where comfort was needed but was otherwise too caught up in the idea that someone’s relationship was more scandalous than her own to pay too much attention to detail. Eventually, the scorned woman found rest in the solitude of her room, hugging her pillow while projecting the image that she was in her husband’s arms. 

Spike found no such satisfaction. After prowling the castle for three hours, fighting the temptation to pound on Buffy’s door and demand that she allow him ample chance to explain, he retreated to Giles’s room and asked if he could borrow the spare bed. The Watcher granted him stay on sympathy alone; he knew most of the story from a bereft Dawn, and had been completely prepared to tell the vampire to sod off before he saw the rings under his eyes. While Spike was many things, he wasn’t a very skilled liar. There was little exchanged between the two. A mere goodnight and the unnatural silence that ensued. 

Spike knew no sleep, however. He couldn’t. Not for the woman he was supposed to be sleeping beside. The room he inhabited now was cold and unfriendly. He was supposed to be in her artificially warmed embrace, staring at her and wondering how on earth he had been as fortunate as… 

Well, it seemed he knew the answer to that question. 

A groggy team met in the foyer of the castle, eying each other wearily. Buffy refused to meet his gaze—rather moved to befriend Zack in the midst of his grief. Spike thought it wise to avoid Kelly, but then realized the stupidity of assumption and decided that he wasn’t going to alter habit because their significant others were suddenly angsty about their association. Zack had abandoned her; he wasn’t about to do the same. 

Not when he knew how deeply that hurt. 

Spike met her tired, swollen eyes with a small, sympathetic smile. She returned it best she could, but looked away immediately when she noticed everyone staring at them. 

Spike observed the same virtually at the precise instant she did, and could not help rolling his eyes. "What?" he snarled. "’S there something to look at?" 

"Just trying to decide whether or not to stake you on sight or give you a thirty second head start," Xander said coldly. "Gotta hand it to you…of everyone I’ve ever seen her with, I never figured you’d be the first to—" 

"Finish that sentence, Harris, and you’ll be swallowing your teeth." 

"What? Because you’re unchipped now?" 

A visible gulp. So the news was commonplace, now. Well that figured. The Slayer wanted everyone on their high and mighty toes in case he decided to do something by the status of his nature. "No," he retorted lowly, unable to form a quick rejoinder at that. For years, his empty threats had passed as…well…empty. Now that there might be some truth to his words, he knew better than to step out of line with presumption. 

Slater smirked and walloped Zack on the back. "Well," he drawled unpleasantly. "Looks like you’ve started picking up a nasty habit of associating with guys who just wanna—" 

Before he could even think about uttering the words that were so obviously pert on his lips, both Zack and Spike had launched themselves at the bigheaded jock. At first they ignored each other’s presences, as fighting side by side was something they were prone to do out of years of experience, but it only took a few minutes for them to realize what they had inadvertently done. The reaction was nearly simultaneous; Zack immediately backed off, fists clinching as he visibly debated whether to take his fight to the more offensive party. Spike drew back and regarded him with an arched brow, allowing his eyes to drift to the wrist he had twisted the day before. The same that was forming a rather impressive purple bruise. He couldn’t help the rush of pride that shimmied up his back in retribution. Despite how bad he might have felt about it, it was still nice to know that years of being caged hadn’t worn his touch at all. 

"Don’t," Kelly said softly, though it was impossible to tell whom she was speaking to. "Please." 

"I wouldn’t wanna start something here, anyway," Spike said coolly, eyes drifting to Buffy just in time to see her look away. His gaze narrowed with instinctive scrutiny as he tried to conceal the pain that attacked his insides. Like someone was trying to spear him alive. "Someone might get hurt." 

"And we couldn’t have that, could we?" Zack spat. "That’s you all over, isn’t it, Spike? A fucking giver of your kind." 

"What a mouth you’ve grown, Morris. Shames me to think of little Rosie picking up any of your bad habits." 

"What? Like trusting you?" 

"Like making fool assumptions ‘bout things you willfully ignore, like how your bird’s four months along and you’ve just been ignoring it." 

Zack’s eyes widened. "So this has been going on since before we left—" 

Spike stared at him as though he had just suggested that zebras looked good in khaki pants. "You’ve gone completely carrot-top," he decided a minute later. Then he was shouting, gesturing emphatically to Kelly and uncaring of who he disturbed. "For the last bleeding time, there is nothing going on between me and your missus! Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—she’s so head over bleeding heels in love with you that she—" 

"Oh, right," Slater interjected. "Use the ‘love’ defense. I’m sure that worked whenever we shacked it up." 

"Watch it, mate, or I might be forced to fall off the wagon." Spike turned to their herd of staring friends. "And everyone here knows just how much I love Buffy. Infidelity’s not my thing. I’m not like Angelus. I—" 

"That’s for sure," Angelus muttered. 

Spike favored him with the two-finger salute. 

"Only stating what you just said, boy. You’re not like me." He glanced over to Buffy. "And as funny as these dramatics are, I’ve gotta say the crying hearts and woeful sob stories are beginning to egg at my patience. Spike never had it in him to be like me. Not all the way. Hell, he was with Dru for a century and a half without even looking at another woman." 

"Thanks, mate." The words came so hard that he practically choked on them. 

"Not trying to help out. You’re a wuss. A half demon. Always have been." He leaned in close, eyes sparkling with the foreknowledge only a grandsire could possess. "Dru always went for the weak ones, Willy. Did she ever share that tidbit? Tell me, how much time did you spend crying last night…when you could’ve just as easily solved your problem by…" He glanced suggestively over to Kelly. "Indulging your sweet tooth." 

Spike rolled his eyes; his reply stopping Zack in his tracks from where he had started to prowl forward. "For the last bleeding time, I’m not shagging the bird." 

"I didn’t mean that sweet tooth." Angelus winked and moved aside, wrapping his arm around Clarice and pulling her against him seductively. "And you had the nerve to ever call me housebroken." 

Despite how it came, Spike knew that his grandsire’s words were actually played to his advantage. Whether or not the prat meant for him to monopolize them in that fashion was another story, but he wasn’t about to lay waste to a good thing. The look on Buffy’s face—for the first time since their encounter last night—was thoroughly torn. It pained him to see the love in her eyes, as though she needed to reprimand herself for not showing more adequate judgment. When finally their gazes met and her face began to crumple, he knew their separation was killing her every bit as much as it was killing him. 

The urge to go to her was damn near intolerable, and just as he set out to take the initial step; he felt a heavy hand clamp on his shoulder. 

"Take it easy, pumpkin," Lorne whispered soothingly. "Wound’s still too fresh to require a doctor’s touch. Give her time." 

Spike shook his head. "Time? Sodding time? I can’t…" 

"If you go to her now, you’ll just send her back. And back, and back, and back." The Host offered what he could of a smile. "She’ll come around, big guy. Eventually, she’ll have to." 

Spike turned to him, eyes shining with hope. "What?" he demanded roughly. "Did you see it when we sang? Did you—" 

"Well, not exactly. That’s more common sense." Lorne took a minute to collect his thoughts. "What I saw when you sang…that’s what there is to worry about. Not this primetime Nancy Sinatra heartland of distraction. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, sweetheart." 

Spike sighed wistfully and glanced to Kelly. "Can’t you just…you’re a sodding mind reader for crying out loud! I can’t…we can’t take much more of this." 

"Hon, in case you didn’t notice, I’m a demon. Neither Zack or your tasty toots are going to be particularly keen in hearing what it is that I have to say about this soap opera gone even more wrong than soap operas go." Lorne shook his head and steered him into the Great Hall. "Believe me, in matters of the heart, the heart always prevails. There’s no way your situation could get any—" 

A voice cut through the long tide of reassurance; a voice he had lived with for over a century. A voice that knew his every waking curve, smile, and frown. A voice he thought to be dead. 

A voice centered in the heartland of the Great Hall, surrounded by two other faces he never thought to see again. 

"Black clouds misread his judgment, grandmum. He doesn’t feel like having any cookies in the park." Without ever leaving his stop of astonishment, the raven-haired vampire ran a shaking hand over her chin and sampled her pinky, as though lapping up a spec of sugar. "And it always rains on Sundays." 

There was a long eye-roll from the other side; a familiar blonde head shaking in positive annoyance as her gaze fixed excitedly on those who had just entered. "For God’s sakes, Dru, shut the hell up before you’re prophesizing the lifespan of dust particles." 

"Is mummy upset with me? I made the bed especially for you." 

Spike tensed as he felt a surge of family pride rush through the vampire behind him. Almost automatically, Angelus had retracted his hold on Clarice, and was stepping forward with wide-eyed awe. "Darla?" 

The four hundred year-old demon smiled winningly at him. "That’s right, Angelus," she said softly. "I trust you’re ready for the view." 

However, of the two sporadic vampires that were seated on opposing sides of the room, their presence was in no way overdone by the chair in the middle. With deft slowness, the seat pivoted to face the new arrivals, and everyone gasped as they beheld the face of Dr. Hannibal Lecter for the first time in years. 

"Good morning," he greeted amiably. "Please, won’t you sit down?" 

"—worse," Lorne completed. "Damn, I really knew better than to say that." 

"I guess you jinxed us too," Kelly muttered shakily where only Lorne heard. He slowly nodded, eyes leaving the trio standing before them. 

Giles stepped through the crowd to the front as he adjusted his glasses. He looked to the latest arrivals and demanded, "How did you get here and why?" 

"Don’t worry, Mr. Giles, I believe," Lecter said calmly with and evil smile stretched across his lips. He then gestured to all the empty seats around the table. "Please, sit down. I believe that you might find more of the answers you seek, if you simply take a moment to relax. Besides, the food here is divine." 

Dru looked around the crowd and then clapped her hands with glee. "Daddy has come to play today. He brought lots of tasty treats, but I don’t want any lemon drops." 

Angelus walked over and stood beside both new vampires. "When did you get here, Darla?" 

"I’ll tell you all, but you have to sit down." She emphasized the last two words as she gave a harsh gaze to the crowd. 

Everyone decided that it would probably be best if they followed their orders and began scrambling for the seats on the opposite end of the table. It took a few moments, but eventually all were seated and breakfast began being served. 

"Very good," Darla said with a smile. "Now, that wasn’t too hard now, was it?" No one responded, but look at her in search of answers. "I hate when people are shy. Don’t worry; we aren’t going to kill you. Unless you give us reason to." 

"Don’t stray of the path," Dru whispered loudly. "No one go on the grass, especially to step on the daises. But we don’t like the tulips at all." 

"I know who the nutcase is," Clarice stammered. She gestured then to Darla, "But who the fuck is she?" 

"Darla," Spike replied dryly. "Let’s just say, your reign as Angelus’s play toy is about at an end." 

"That’s Darla?" Zack couldn’t help but ask the vampire. He was told some awful stories about the old days when the family was all together, and he knew that this seemingly attractive and normal woman was really anything but what she appeared. 

Spike nodded. "The one and only."

Kelly grabbed her daughter’s hand and slowly pulled her chair away from the table. She couldn’t possibly let her child stay in the same room with all this evil. The new faces mesmerized Rosie though, so she didn’t fully cooperate with her mother’s efforts. 

"You aren’t going anywhere, Mrs. Morris," Dr. Lecter smirked. "We haven’t truly begun yet. Weren’t you taught that you shouldn’t leave the table before you clear your plate? Don’t worry. No acquaintances of yours are on the menu this morning." 

Kelly gulped and picked up her fork again, bringing herself and her daughter back to the table. 

"Then let’s begin," Buffy growled between her clenched teeth. 

"Testy testy," Lecter scolded. "That isn’t very becoming for a lady. No matter her mortality." 

Before Buffy could tell him a few more unladylike opinions, Xander nudged her, causing her to get a grip. 

"Well," Darla began after she looked around to see if anyone else was going to interrupt them. "The rules of the game are simple. Nobody’s leaving." 

"For how long?" Lisa demanded. "I have to get back. I have people demanding my fashions and fabrics from India to sign for. Besides," she looked over at Xander briefly. "I have to file my official Scooby resignation forms at the court house." 

"No," Xander said. "I’m divorcing you. You aren’t divorcing me." 

"No one leaves Lisa Turtle," she said, flipping her hair. 

"Guys," Slone pleaded. "I don’t think now is the time." 

"The girl is right," Darla said continuing on. "You’ll get to leave sometime, but be prepared to be here for a while. And just to make sure that nobody gets any ideas, we set up a guaranteed system of making sure no one escapes." 

"Sure nothing that a little magic couldn’t fix," Willow said sassily. 

"I believe that it would be an appropriate assessment to say that the spell used is well out of you league," Hannibal said warmly. 

"Yes," Darla said. "It’s a Evisceration spell. Anyone who tries to enter or leave Hogwarts property will eviscerate. So, I wouldn’t recommend it myself. Just behave yourselves and try not to do anything too… revolutionary." 

"You expect us to just sit back while you hold us hostage?" Josh said standing up. "I work for the President. I have to get back." 

"He looks like he could be quite a meal," Lecter remarked. "Lots of tender meat." 

Josh sat down with a gulp. He briefly leaned over and whispered to a pale Donna, "Thanks. This was just the relaxing vacation I needed. And people wonder why I had a post traumatic stress disorder." 

"What’s evisserasion?" Stephen asked. 

"Well, let‘s just say that you’ll never have to work about a stomach ache again," Darla responded. 

"You will be disemboweled," Giles defined. 

"Wonder who decided that one?" Clarice said looking at the Good Doctor. 

Rosie slipped out of her chair and began walking around the table to get a better look at the evil before her. She couldn’t quite understand, but she was drawn to the three people before her and their strange words and actions. She knew that they were important, but she didn’t quite understand why. 

She walked up to Darla, the worst of them all, without an ounce of fear in her eyes. Curiosity and confusion but not an ounce of trepidation. Standing as tall as her four-year old body could stand she asked for everyone to hear and notice her presence before the wicked vampire, "Does it hurt? Will we be in pain?" 

Darla got a smile of her face that sent shivers through everyone’s spine. She bent down to the child and said, "No darling. Not a bit. Were you afraid it might hurt your family and friends? Well, of course not. Here, you want to try it out and make sure." She reached for the little girl’s hand as she said, "Let’s go and see." 

Spike and Zack had instantly ran to the girl when the noticed her current location. Before Darla could grasp her hand, Spike slapped her away, while Zack snatched up his daughter. "Sod off," Spike snapped. "The girl’s off limits to the likes of you." 

"Daddy brought me a present. Looks like sugarplums and turnips. May I have my present now, Mummy?" Dru had walked over to Zack and Rosie and was trying to pry the girl out of Zack’ grasp. The blond father was having a terrible time since his only line of defense was to kick her away. 

"Don’t touch her!" Spike roared in a voice that made even Kelly flinch as he pushed Drusilla clear into the wall. 

"William is a bad bad boy," Dru whimpered. "Puppies and carrots frolic the woods and he still tastes like ashes." 

Spike and Zack were now side by side as they protectively had a hand on Rosie‘s back. 

"Wow, you lucky girl," Darla laughed. "You don’t just have one daddy, but two. Spike, I had no idea that William the Bloody was now a babysitter. An immortal father and a mortal one," she said turning her gaze to Zack. "And a very nice mortal one at that." She eyes his appraisingly. "I don’t know how you do it, Spike. How you contain yourself when there’s such delectable innocents about?" 

"Practice," Spike grumbled as he put a comforting hand on Zack’s should as his other lay still on Rosie’s back. He didn’t turn away from the vampire as he said. "Better get her out of here, Zangy. You too. We don’t need to lose her pap today." He then looked up at Zack. Neither remembered their current standing for a moment, but then both stepped apart in realization. 

"Yeah," Zack snorted as he took another step back at the man who he felt destroyed his marriage. "Then who would take care of Rosie while you’re out with Kelly? Dawn has to go to school sometimes." He ignored the pained expressions on selected people throughout the room as he gestured to Drusilla. "Isn’t it perfect now? If Harmony was here you could truly say that you have every woman you’ve fucked in the last century all in one place. You should really introduced the first one to your latest catch. Kel always likes to meet new people." With that Zack, with his daughter in his arms, stormed out. 

"Oh, well," Lecter said. "The discussion was over. Have a splendid morning." He placed his napkin down and walked out of the room.

No one ate another bite. 


	12. Chapter 12

"What are we going to do?" Donna asked as she walked into Josh’s room. 

The White House Deputy Chief of Staff was tying away on the computer he smuggled past his assistant. She was too distressed to care at this point as she flopped on the bed beside him. "I don’t know really," Josh admitted. "I talk to everyone and they said that there really isn’t a solution. No one can find this place because of the enchantments on normal people. I can work from here and we’ll just manage." He continued on typing. 

"You think that they won’t kill us? I think that it might be a lie," Donna said. 

Josh finally stopped and looked up at her. He was terrified as well, but he knew that he didn’t have any answers. "Do you think that this place has a fax machine?" She merely shook his head and blinked at the stupid question that came from his mouth. "Never mind." 

"There are times when being a workaholic might be a little too much to swallow, Josh." 

"No," He sighed. "I’m scared too." He continued on before she could make a joke. His voice spoke his truth. "Please don’t tease. I just…. Why did I join a band with demons in it? Two vampires couldn’t give me any clues. And that night!! That night couldn’t have given me signals that maybe I shouldn’t be doing this? Why didn’t you tell how stupid this was?" 

Donna took the frantic man’s hand. "Relax. There’s nothing we can do now." It was ironic how quickly their roles could reverse. "Besides, you enjoyed it. For once, you actually had a life outside of the White House."

"Admit it. You just enjoyed the thought of me in a band," Josh said relaxing and beginning to banter. 

"Yeah," she said sarcastically. "My boss plays a keyboard." They both had refused that their romantic feelings were exposed that night four years ago. Both simply blamed it on the show that they were trying to fit into. Nothing more. 

"You thought I would be sexy, huh?" Josh flashed her one of his heart melting grins. They were in love, but both were too afraid to admit. They had come to the personal revelation, but actually vocalizing it was more than they could bear. 

Donna had an ego-diminishing insult on the tip of her tongue, but it never came to pass. Their eyes locked and both leaned forward. Stakes were high, but so was tension and release was demanded. With mere millimeters of air separating their parted lips, they closed their eyes in anticipation. 

Suddenly, the door flew open and Ferris waltzed in. Josh and Donna quickly separated and recovered, but not with both first releasing a groan of dissatisfaction. 

"Why did we come?" Ferris demanded. "We don’t need to be here. We aren’t playing our music. And why are we involved with these whack jobs. Hello! Demons here. We’re in a band with demons." 

"Yup," was all hat Josh could manage to say. He was still in the process of regaining his breath. 

"I don’t think that there is really going to be a Dysfunctionals anyway," Ferris went on. "Look at Spike and Zack. They can’t be in the same room as each other. How will they stand to be on the same stage? And what about this gig? If Snape can’t get in, then we don’t get to perform the show. There goes all that money." 

"Spike’s chip is out," Donna said in revelation. 

Josh ignored her statement, but took her hand. He figured that Ferris was pretty dumb as it was and wouldn’t notice the gesture. "So… yeah. Issues are with Buffy too. I guess the Dysfunctionals are disbanded." 

"He could eat us now," Donna said still reflecting over her previous statement. "Or at least hit you when you make some smart-ass comment." 

"Should have known better than to pick up hitch-hikers. That always leads to trouble." 

"I guess I can’t tease him as William the Bloody Awful Singer anymore. Even though, he really can sing. It was fun just to see his get annoyed. But he was always a really nice guy." 

"That whole night was just a mistake. Just like deciding that since we crashed a tent revival that we would be the perfect rock group. God, Donna. How could we be so blind?" 

"I know. We shouldn’t have teased him so much. He was always kind, and he knew we liked him, but what if he holds grudges. Like you do." 

"Donna," Josh blinked. "What are you talking about?" 

"Whatever you are."

"This is going to be a long day, isn’t it?" Ferris sulked. 

"Let’s just hope it isn’t as long as that last one," Josh said in defeat. 

*~*~* 

The strangest thing about the impromptu house arrest was the sincerity behind Darla’s promise. Spike had known the vampire long enough to smell out a conspiracy when presented with one. Everything struck him with a note of suspicion. For the woman to have agreed to an arrangement that visibly forced her to refrain from killing meant that something major was in the works. 

After Angel retained his soul in 1898, Spike and Drusilla’s association with their grandsire had diminished to casual acquaintance. Darla had very vividly expressed her intense desire to separate all involvement with the childer of her fallen knight. Once in China for the Boxer Rebellion. Where Angel had tried to prove himself to still be a bad boy. Where William the Bloody had murdered his first Slayer. They had crossed paths once in Paris before the ill-fated journey to Prague, but the trade had been less than climactic. A casual nod, a disinterested inquiry, and parted ways once more. The elder vampire had moved to rejoin with the Master, and they had not bothered to follow her progress afterward. Darla had never been impressed with those that Angelus chose to mount his leagues. She had hated Drusilla simply for her lunacy, and she never accredited Spike with the respect he deserved. 

And yet here she was. With Drusilla. 

Dru. 

Spike smiled tightly to himself. He wouldn’t deny the surprise in seeing his old flame, but for whatever reason, it did not strike him as entirely odd that she would have found herself mojo’ed back to the land of the living. Despite sanity, Dru had always been a fighter. The crazy night that had lured everyone together four years earlier had proven several things, but it took more than a twist of fate to defeat his dark princess. 

A hundred years with her. It seemed surreal to think about now, especially since a hundred years had already past since he last touched Buffy. Since he felt her look at him with affection. With anything other than betrayal. One night suddenly transformed into a hundred years. The dull ache that had slowly begun to consume him was in danger of swallowing him whole. Every minute was simply an effort to get through the next. And the next. And the next. To strive for that one shimmer of release when he didn’t feel like he was deteriorating from the inside. 

One would have thought that the sporadic appearance of his vampiric family would have presented him with at least a tidbit of distraction, but there really wasn’t much to consider. Drusilla and Darla were here, and they were working with that ponce of a psychiatrist that had initiated this entire thing. Spike’s connection with them was potent enough to remain steadfast if he felt any of them were about to do something against one of his own. He couldn’t deny the shiver of trepidation experienced when he considered how Angelus’s outlook on the situation might differ with the love of his unlife in the balance now. One big happy family. Together again.

And he could be a part of it. He could. He was soulless and chipless, and he could be a part of it if he wanted to. Though she hadn’t said anything, Drusilla had certainly given off the vibe that he was welcome in her bed. He could become a part of the problem rather than work for the solution. He could do whatever he damn well pleased. He owed not a thing to anyone. Buffy was gone, Zack didn’t trust him, and… 

The Order of Aurelius called to him, and he ignored it.

Drusilla wanted him back, but the thought of anyone else disgusted him. 

He ignored it. Because he wasn’t like that anymore. 

Because he was no longer a monster, despite how others refused to accept that. 

Because the thought of hurting others made his blood boil.

Because he was an utterly useless wanker. 

The once Scourge of Europe reduced to such a state. Who would have thought? Certainly not him. 

"Things change," Angel had told him once. 

"Not us!" he had arrogantly replied. "Not demons."

And yet it was Angel who was making googly eyes over the enemy. Angel who was introducing Clarice, the most recent addition to the Order to his other girls. Angel, who wasn’t really Angel. Angel was gone. 

For the first time in years, Spike confessed to missing the soul-having git, but Hell would freeze over before he admitted that aloud. Their rivalry was legendary, their mutual aversion likely recorded in history books. However, the Great Poof was rational. Levelheaded. Despite his vocal objection to Buffy’s relationship with a killer of her kind, he would have immediately seen the fallacies in Zack’s argument. He would have seen that something of the abnormal was afoot, because even Spike could recognize that his former chum’s behavior was even more erratic than it would be under such circumstances. 

It would be so easy, his inner demon whispered. Just to let go. They’re expecting you to. Watching every bloody move you make. Now that Dru’s back…now that the Order has been put back together. Now that you don’t have a Slayer-shaped ball’n’chain to answer to… 

No, Spike answered ruefully, ignoring the fresh swell of tears that were automatically summoned at the thought of what he had lost. It wouldn’t be easy. It’s never easy. To give everyone up? I’m not like them. 

Not like them. Not human. Vampire. Inhumane. Monster. 

Not like them. Not jumping to sodding conclusions. Not giving up. Not gonna turn my back on them just ‘cause they do it to me. 

"His head fills with wasps. Angry. Hurtful. Whsp whsp whsp…" From the shadows of the corridor, his maker came forward. She skated a hand over his chest and lightly tapped her fingernails against his skull. "No more plastic. No more wires. Just a chip. The stings have covered you, William. You ache with them, and yet all you see is her." 

Spike felt the inner tug that drew him to her and shriveled with resentment. While he could never hate Dru, his feelings for her had definitely performed the most profound one/eighty of his existence. He never thought he would shudder in retraction at the thought of his once-goddess touching him. Like everything else about her, her affection had been tainted and twisted. More drawn out for sadism and falsity than anything he could even begin to call real. Spike had not known what real love felt and tasted like until he awoke the fateful morning after realizing his true feelings for the Slayer. 

"You’ve gone from prophecizing to stating the obvious, Dru," Spike observed with arched brows. "Kinda takes the mystery out." 

She pouted at him. "Does my Spike not want to play? You used to love our games." 

"Things change." He stopped and closed his eyes briefly in annoyance. Despite his preference of Angel over Angelus, it didn’t do well to his maintained sanity to start quoting to poof. "I mean, I changed. You know that, pet." 

"She bathes in lies. The face she wears whispers little nasties to her, and she believes it." The insane vampire emitted a long, deranged giggle. "She plays with the puppies but doesn’t want you to follow. Might bite. Might scratch. Might play too rough with the others." Drusilla met his eyes mischievously, a familiar smirk crossing her lips. "Rrrrowr. Bad dog." 

A person didn’t spend a century listening to such nonsense without building a system of understanding. Thus, it didn’t strike Spike as odd at all. He nodded, following her plainly, and reached for his cigarettes. "Buffy doesn’t believe me," he acknowledged. "Thinks I’m still…thinks I’d do something to muck up what we…" 

Drusilla’s mischievous persona dropped almost immediately, a look of disgust overwhelming her features. "You…you stink of her." She wiped her hand against herself as though trying to rid her skin of an unwanted residue. As though contact with her former love was contamination of his uncanny humanity. As though she was in danger of contradicting the same sort of caring. "She’s all over you. Filthy, rotten girl. Stealing my William. But she leaves you in shadows so that she can dance. You’re in the shadows now, love. With me." 

Spike shook his head and stepped back. "Not with you, Dru. Never with you again. I’m hers. For now and bloody ever. It’s your fault, anyway. Y’should’ve known a right catch like me wouldn’t stay on the market long after we parted ways." He managed a semi-cocky smile that failed for his lack of feeling. "I know you and Darla are up to something, pet. It’s bloody obvious. And yeah—this little Scooby rift it’s right convenient, but ‘ve seen these prats operate even when there’s tension among the ranks. Best tell dear grandmum that whatever she has up her sleeve’s not gonna be worth the intense dusting she’ll get as a reward." 

Drusilla mewled pitifully. "I cannot see you, pet. You’re lost in the woods and I cannot take you home." She paused; ignoring the skeptical look he gave her, and had cried out in pain the next minute, clutching at her stomach. It was habit alone that prompted Spike to go to her, to support her in his arms as the vision came and went. The familiar trembling lasted only a minute, but she clutched to him far longer than needed. "The big bad wolf is coming for you, my Spike. All alone, lost in the woods. Galloping, galloping, and here he comes." 

A flawless eyebrow perched. "Somethings coming to get me?" he asked hesitantly. "Think your timings a little off, sweetheart. Whatever was after me has me by the bloody…well, let’s just say things are less than rosey." 

As if on cue, a small child raced up the corridor and leapt boldly into his proffered embrace. Spike either ignored or didn’t gauge the shadowed look that crossed his former’s face in turn. He was overwhelmed with delight at having his godchild in his arms again. Though not long had passed, it felt it had been forever since he last saw her. 

A day at most. Twenty four hours since his world fell apart. 

"Uncle Spike!" 

He grinned at her. "How’s my Nibblet?" 

A look of distress burdened her eyes, and he immediately felt his heart fall with her. "Things are bad, aren’t they?" 

"What’s wrong, pumpkin? You didn’t have another…" He hazarded a glance to Drusilla, remembering she was there, and felt himself frown at the crease marring her brow. "No more nightmares, right?" 

"No nightmares," the girl sniffled. "But the mean people…they’ve been talking. I heard them talking." He stared at her intently, admiring her gall for not reacting to the vampiress that glowered from the corner. True, Rosie’s indifference could easily be accredited to her age, but he understood her well enough to know there was something else afoot in her depth of comprehension. "Are they gonna hurt us? You wouldn’t let them hurt us, would you?" 

A pang attacked his heart at the very thought. "’Course not. I’d never let anything happen to you." 

"He tells stories that have no horses," Drusilla murmured from behind. "All the ponies get sick and die, and never know what is being said of them." 

The insane ramblings went ignored. Rosie reached up to touch her godfather’s cheek, her small hand trembling with impact. "But you’re like them, Uncle Spike," she whispered. 

"I am not like them, Bit. ‘d never hurt you." He kissed her forehead. "I love you. I don’t hurt the people I love." 

_Flash. Buffy against the bathroom floor. Crying and striking against him. Wriggling in desperation. Screams tearing from her throat. Screams begging him to stop. Stop, stop. He’s hurting her._

"I don’t…" he choked, wiping his eyes before he could form tears _. God, that isn’t me. I’m not…I’d never…she forgave me a long time ago for that. And I’d never hurt her again. Never._ "I know I was like them once, Rosie, and I’m sorry that you have to know that, too. Your uncle isn’t a nice bloke." 

She studied his distress sweetly, feeling the wet of his tears against her small hand before moving to reassure him with the comfort of her small embrace. "You’re nice, Uncle Spike," she whispered. "Daddy knows so, too. He’s just worried. He thinks Mommy doesn’t love him anymore." 

No child should know so much about her parent’s troubled marriage…unless that child happened to be Stephen, in which certain facts went ignored. Spike shook his head ruefully and observed her courage with a prideful eye. "When’d my Bit get to be so clever?" he asked with a poignant grin. 

Drusilla cackled as though it were a great joke. "He walks a fine line that leads into a wall," she giggled. "The King of Cups will expect him to join us for lunch." 

Rosie scowled, acknowledging the vampiress for the first time. "You’re a bad lady," she accused. 

"Bite your tongue," came the defensive hiss. 

"No. That would hurt. I’m not a dummy." 

Spike grinned in spite of himself and hoisted the girl into his arms. "You aren’t at that," he agreed. "Come on, dumpling. Better get you back to your Mum before she worries." 

"Yes." Drusilla nodded, eyes shining like birthstones. "Run away, dearie. Soon your own Spike will turn against you. He turns against all his girls." 

Spike froze in his tracks and turned to her, eyes narrowed into a demanding stare. "Shut your gob," he snapped. "You don’t know me anymore, you crazed bint. You’re loonier than I ever gave credit if you think for one bleeding minute that I’d hurt Rosie." 

"But you are going to hurt her, William. She’ll bleed and bleed before you stop."

"Shut up!" 

"And she’s not the only one." Drusilla eyed him wickedly and turned away, body swaying to music only her demented ears could hear. "You’re dancing closer now. Soon you’ll fall and only I will follow. Oh no, she won’t be the only one. My William’s a naughty boy. Rosie first, mother next. Father will follow." She giggled and pivoted to face him again. "You’ll save the best for last." 

Spike closed his eyes briefly to rein control on himself. He needed no illustration to whom she was referring. It took very little to get him lost. So little that he didn’t realize that Rosie had neared his ear until his deadened skin flustered under her baby breath. "Does she mean Aunt Buffy?" 

"Such a smart little clover," Drusilla complimented, stepping forward. "If I ate her heart, would I be smart, too?" 

Spike snarled defensively and stepped back, bumpies emerging without thought. "Keep your bloody distance." 

"You saw it, didn’t you, dearie?" she asked the child, ignoring her former paramour. "You saw what my William was going to do. You saw what he was capable of." Her eyes leveled with his dangerously, and she licked her lower lip. "What he has always had inside. Growing, growing. What he’s going to do to you and your mummy. What he has waiting for the Slayer." 

"The only thing growing for the Slayer it’s something unmentionable in front of the girl," Spike spat. "If I were you, Dru, I’d hold on. The Scoobies are gonna fry you, the Doc, and sweet grandmum over to the next life…for good." 

"My William disappoints." 

"No chip, sweetheart. Doesn’t need to be there for me to make the right decision." 

Drusilla shook her head. "But you won’t. Soon you will dine with the rest, and the Slayer will dance." 

_I know you want to dance._

_I know I’m a monster._

_I’m a monster._

"Won’t happen," Spike said, nodding once as though to convince himself. "Goodbye, Dru." He hoisted Rosie in his arms one last time, and turned to stalk off before she could reply. 

Before he could allow her to frighten him or the girl any further. 

_I’m a monster._

He shook his head resolutely, eyes beginning to cloud. "But she treats me like a man," he whispered with growing desperation. 

"Uncle Spike?" Rosie asked softly, not hiding her concern. But he did not answer her. 

He was too forgone. 

"That Dumbledore would just…what…let a soulless vampire with a reputation such as yours to go around all unleashed?" 

He wasn’t a man in her eyes. Not now. Perhaps he had never been. 

_I’m a monster._

_No._

_And if she stops treating me like a man, I might just have to remind her exactly what that means._

_Never. I’d never hurt her._

_I’m a monster._

Spike shook his head, fighting the tears that sprang to his eyes. When he felt the girl in his arms begin to tremble, he forced a smile to his face and lowered her to the ground. "Hush now, Princess," he murmured. "It’ll be all right." 

"Do you mean it, Uncle Spike?" 

_"Spike! No! Please don’t do this! Pllleeeeeaaaasseee!"_

_I’m a monster._

"’Course, Bit. Never meant anything more." 

_I’m a monster._

God it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. 

If only he could convince himself.

*~*~*

"Can we talk?" Willow asked meekly as she entered his room. He hadn’t said a word to her all day, despite her many attempts to. She went to his room and knocked for five minutes before she realized he wouldn’t let her in. She decided to take the task upon herself. "I really would like to talk about things?" 

"I don’t think there is anything to talk about," Oz snapped as he jumped off the bed and walked over to the open window. He took in a deep breath of the open air, but didn’t say another word. 

"Yes, there is," The Witch said in a voice of desperation. "I know that I might have slipped up on names back there, but it doesn’t mean anything. Tara was… well… she’s gone. And I love you. I’ve always loved you." 

"You loved her too. And still do. Too much." 

"Well, yes. I can’t deny that. But you can’t blame a person can you? Tara is in the past. You…you are my present and future. I’ve moved on and I think that you should too." 

"So… Tara was what? A phase?" Oz turned his gaze from the scenery to face her. 

The words struck Willow deep. She remembered talking to Tara about this. She promised her that it wasn’t so. That Tara would always be her baby. But here she was. The urge to deny it was on the tip of her tongue. With one single syllable word, she could turn everything that her and Tara shared into a sham. Into a dirty little lie. But saying it would save her relationship with Oz. Things between her and Tara were over and Tara would want what was best for her, no matter what. 

"Answer me," Oz said with anger flashing before his eyes that she had never seen before. 

"Are you really going to make me choose between you and a dead girl? Honestly Oz, I thought you were more of a man than that." 

Oz simply shrugged and folded his arms in anticipation of an answer. 

She owed Tara more than this. She might love Oz, but she would always love Tara as well. She knew that her feelings for Oz could grow stronger than the bond between Tara and her, but she wanted to be honest with him from the start. No matter the price. "I loved her. A part of me will always love her. I don’t think that you can change that. But I love you. And I don’t think that you can change that either." 

"I can’t compete with a dead girl." 

"It isn’t a competition." 

"I won’t be a replacement!" he practically roared. 

"Don’t you hear me?" Willow screamed back. "You aren’t a replacement! You’re you! I don’t want anybody but you!" 

"And her! You want her! Admit it Willow. Who would you choose if she was alive? Her or me?" 

She couldn’t answer. She really wouldn’t be able to say. She did choose Tara over him once in the past. But now was a different story. Time had passed and she had changed. She was a professor at a world-renown school and was happier than she had ever been. The last few days were quite the notable exception. 

All Oz could focus on was she had chose the girl in question over him before. That he was already rated second best. A cold look of realization washed over his face, as he said, "No need to answer. Your mind was made up long ago. You remember the day." With that he stormed past her and out of the room before she could utter the facts that she had changed from the girl who said those words to him that day in mention so many years ago. 

*~*~*

"Some things never change," Zack said at random. A group, consisting of Xander, Buffy, Giles, and himself, decided that research would be the best remedy to taking minds off their personal dilemmas. They had congregated in the Watcher’s room to read over causes for Slater’s appearance and the more recent situation that developed that morning during breakfast. 

"What?" Giles said looking up. They had all been silent for almost an hour, and the sudden sound of a voice had broken his concentration. 

"Sorry," Zack said, looking up from the ancient text in front of him to rub his eyes. He hadn’t really been reading, but his eyes hurt just the same. "Didn’t mean to break the focus or anything." 

"Don’t worry," Xander said closing the book before him. "I wasn’t really thinking on the demon level either. Women are the evil ones." He then looked over to an offended Buffy. "I mean…. Mortal women are the evil ones." 

Buffy sighed and nodded her head. "It’s OK. I guess we all are having relationship problems. Well," She looked up at her Watcher. "Well, you really aren’t." 

"Maybe a lack of one," he replied quickly under his breath. He then spoke up. "That’s all right, Zack. Maybe a break would do us good. I don’t seem to be getting anywhere. How about the rest of you?" 

Zack and Buffy shook their heads reluctantly and Xander gave a look that said ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’. All were frustrated and tired, but none wanted to reflect on their real failings in life. 

"How about I go get us some drinks?" Xander replied standing up to stretch. 

"I’ll join you," Giles said eager for a chance to walk off his stiffness. 

Within seconds, Buffy and Zack were alone for the first time since they made the discovery. "I’m sorry," Zack said first after the awkward silence. "I guess it’s more my fault than anything about you and Spike." 

"Did you turn your wife into a whore?" Buffy snapped. She quickly realized that he was probably still in love with Kelly as much as she was with Spike. She could curse her man till the end of the world, but she didn’t quite like the sound of them on other’s lips.

"It’s OK," Zack said sensing the apology about to be spoken. "It’s going to be hard to get used to the facts. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d left me before." 

"Really?" Buffy had never heard of any rough spots in their long-standing relationship except for the Slater incident. Even that was never spoken of in great detail. 

"Yeah. High school. Childish, but she dumped me at Prom. Left me for her boss." 

"She dumped you at Prom? Oh my God. That bitch!" 

"Well… it wasn’t senior prom, but we were just crowned King and Queen." 

"That is so awful… you were crowned when it wasn’t your senior year?" 

"Junior year I think. But senior Prom, we got back together." 

"Your high school is… odd. But still. Why did you take that from her." 

"Because I’ve always loved her. Hell I would have married her in kindergarten, but I still had a thing for Marsha Brady. It was just one of those things that I always…" Emotion got too great. He looked up at her and almost broke down. 

The Slayer rushed to his side. "I know. This is so hard."

Zack let out a humorless chuckle. "It’s kinda funny. One time, him and I talked. We both pined over the woman we were never supposed to have. But, we worked for it. We knew that with enough determination, she would open her eyes to see that we loved her more than anyone else in this world possibly could. Yeah… real soulmates we were, huh?" 

"He really said that?" Buffy’s eyes filled with tears. 

"We just talked one night about the parallels between us. No one trusted us to do the right thing, but we did when needed. Yeah, what a crock of shit." 

"No," Buffy said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She was choking on her words. "You…you aren’t stupid. That…was beautiful. They just don’t know what they… what they had." 

Zack noted her final word. "There really isn’t a way to come back from this, is there?" 

"I don’t see a way." She sobbed. 

Zack took her in his arms as his own emotions gave way. "What did we do wrong? Why did we trust them? Why did we love them?" 

"Sorry," Xander said coming in on the intimate moment. "I’ll come back." He shut the door before the pair could request otherwise. 

They leaned on each other and sobbed for hours. Finally the current wave of grief washed away and they were able to hold coherent thoughts once again. Zack was the first to speak. "Why should we let them win?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Why should we just sit here and cry? They hurt us. We shouldn’t feel guilty. They should." 

"You’re right, but I don’t know what we should do about it," The Slayer said not following Zack for an instant. 

"We shouldn’t be sitting here crying. Even if we want to. We should be making them think that we can get by without them. Even if we know we’re faking it. Call it vengeance, but I think that they should hurt a little for what they did." 

"Bitter much?" Buffy said with a small smile. She understood exactly what Zack was thinking. 

"We should just make it seem like they are the farthest things from our minds." 

"How? How do we do that when they’re all we think about?" 

"Between you, and you are the Slayer, and me. I’m not some superhero, but give me a little conniving credit. Between the two of us, we can come up with something," He said in a voice reeking of cocky assurance. Then in a much more skeptical tone he added, "I think." 

"Well, let’s just hope you’re right." 

"Hey, I’m Zack Morris. Being right’s all I’ve got." 

"No," Buffy disagreed, placing a tender hand atop his. "You’ve got me." 

The air between them was rapidly becoming thick with unspoken tension, and neither knew exactly what to do about it. While there had always been a sort of harmless tease about Zack’s noted attraction to his best friend’s wife, all thoughts along the line of pursuit had gone indefinitely dismissed for his noted marital status. Never a glimmer of temptation. It was strict code too Zack that while looking was perfectly acceptable, touching the goods was very much off base. He hadn’t given Buffy a suggestive glance since the minute he realized she was lost to a certain peroxide pest; a matter resolved just seconds after she had crashed through the window at the nightclub, and everything from there was history. 

In looking back, Zack had to wager that had Kelly’s infidelity not come out just hours before meeting the Scoobies, the first glance of blatant appreciation likely wouldn’t have existed. 

Now there were no such ties. Spike was off fucking his wife, trying to steal what was rightfully his. And it wasn’t just Kelly. Oh no, Zack wasn’t fool enough to think it was simply the woman he loved that the peroxide fiend was after. He saw the way the vampire was around his daughter. How protective and doting; even more so than him at times. Probably thought knocking Kelly up gave him some sort of lenience to mess with their child as well. 

Kelly was pregnant. Kelly was having another baby. Now that the cat was out of the bag, he wondered how he could have missed it all those months. The routine trips to the bathroom, the definitive increase in appetite, the growing roundness of her belly, the way she stopped to ogle at baby’s clothes in a manner she hadn’t exercised since announcing the impending arrival of Rosie Morris. She was pregnant, and it was showing. 

Which meant that whatever association she had with Spike had extended well before their coming to Hogwarts. Perhaps she had only told him about the baby recently, and that explained the sudden complete devotion of attention. It wasn’t like Spike to be sloppy in his conquests. Well, not conquests such as these. 

Zack glanced again to Buffy, unable to contain his misery. 

"I want to get them back," he said softly. 

"I know." 

"No, I mean really get them back. Hit ‘em where it hurts, you know?" He sighed wearily and cast a tired hand through his blonde strands. "I’m tired of being Mr. Passive Aggressive that everyone can walk over. You hear me? I’m bloody sick of it. Kelly’s done this to me ever since we got together. Jeff, Slater, hell, even a random professor in college. One time while we were in high school, she even thought that she was falling for Screech." 

Buffy arched a brow. "Screech ‘Congressman’, Screech?" 

"The one and only." Zack shook his head incredulously. "Every guy I’ve ever been in contact with…except for Xander or Giles, but…hell, after this, who knows?" 

"That’s ridiculous. Xander and Giles would never—" 

Zack snorted. "Just like Spike would never?" A long-suffering sigh coursed through his system. "The problem is…I want to…there’s so much bullshit happening right now, and I’m having to fight every natural instinct I have left to go to him and talk about what we’re going to do. And I want to make sure that Kelly’s all right…but I’m so afraid I’m going to…find them together." 

Buffy frowned. "You really think they’d be together? I mean, if they plan on sticking to the ‘I’m innocent, ask me how’ venue, you’d think they’d stay as far apart from each other as possible." 

"Yeah. You’d think." He snickered. "I thought the same last night when I went to go see if maybe Kel and I could talk things out. Found them at the piano…" He trailed off in disgust. 

A long beat settled between them, wrought with discomfort. 

"What were they doing?" Buffy finally asked before immediately clicking her tongue in removal of the inquiry. "Never mind. I don’t wanna know."

"It wasn’t bad," Zack confessed. "Actually…it looked like Spike was upset about something. He was…" 

_Sobbing_ , his conscience answered. _The word you’re looking for is sobbing. Completely devastated. Just like you feel now. Just like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and he…_

Airily, Zack brushed the thought away. If the past few months had proven anything in his hindsight, it was that while Spike and Kelly might be enjoying an affair to the side, the platinum vampire was still very much into the Slayer. He could barely keep his hands to himself when they were together, minus and sometimes varying when children were present. Losing Buffy was obviously something he was not prepared for, despite the justice in reaping the consequences of his actions. 

Vampires weren’t meant to be monogamous. Angelus was a prime example…or had been until his unfortunate run-in with Clarice. Over the years, Zack and Spike had shared many stories; several revolving around the Cockney’s womanizing wanker of a grandsire. Tall tales of Drusilla and Darla and things his virgin mind did not wish to comprehend were spared in spades. According to all historical accounts of demons, Spike was one out of perhaps ten thousand who remained faithful to one woman at all times. 

Except now. 

Drusilla. Harmony. Buffy. Kelly. Had he fucked Cecily before he was killed? Likely not. William the Bloody Awful Poet was definitely one to stick to societal expectations. Besides, the Victorian bitch hadn’t been interested. 

Of everyone Spike had ever been with, his own wife included, it remained very clear that his affections were ruled by one individual. 

It would kill him to see her with someone else, Zack thought. Perhaps it’s time to remind Spike what a little death feels like. 

Then he frowned. _Little death…isn’t that what the French call an orgasm? Yeah, yeah. La petite morte. Ew. Good thing I didn’t say that out loud. Minor wiggins._

Buffy giggled, and the sound was so alien that it startled him right out of his thoughts. 

"What?" 

"You did say that out loud." 

Zack flushed. "The stuff about little deaths?" 

"And giving Spike orgasms." She flinched a bit in reference, but it was good to see her laughing, even if it was at the look on his face. 

"Thanks for that mental picture, Anya." 

"Hey, you said it, not me." 

"That’s not what I…" He trailed off when he realized exactly what it was that he had been thinking at the time, and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You know what I…I mean, you know what…"

"Vengeance," Buffy said simply. She glanced down; a bit uncomfortable with the look he was giving her. It was Zack of all people. He was like her cousin—or better—her brother. Her very attractive brother that just happened to have blonde hair and eyes that danced the same way Spike’s did whenever he was acting particularly mischievous or had some cockamamie plan dancing around in that head of his. He was the closest thing there was to her unfaithful husband, who she was still woefully in love with. Whom she missed with a burning fury. Whom had only been absent from her bed—her arms—for one night that had already transpired to a thousand years. 

Her husband. Spike. The same that promised never to hurt her again. Never to do to her what had been done to her in the past. To be different from Angel and Riley and her father and every other man in her life and stay. Stay and love her the way she wanted—needed—to be loved. Their rocky start had all but plummeted any chance at finding happiness that there was, but Spike had fought. Oh, he had fought. He had battled his way through her self-loathing and eternal prejudice, had faced his own demon, had hurt her in subconscious recompense for the numerous times that she hurt him. Had— 

_"You don't have a soul!" Punch. Hit. Punch. That’s it. That’s a good slayer. Make the nasty, evil, adorable vampire bleed."There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never be your girl."_

Was she really beyond that? She had thought she was—they had lived as though she was—but was that part of herself that she could never thoroughly exorcise? 

A flinch coiled inwardly at the revival of another memory. A memory that had somehow gone long repressed. She felt pain behind it. Pain that hadn’t been there before. Pain as though he was feeling it, too. As though she could feel everything he felt in remembrance. Every bloody regret. Every string of self-hatred. How he wished he could plunge a stake through his chest for even trying too… 

_His body, so heavy on hers, hands prying at her bathrobe, ignoring her throes and cries of protest. Something terrifyingly feral sparked in his eyes. He has lost control. "I’m gonna make you feel it!" And he doesn’t hear her, doesn’t realize what he’s doing until she’s pushed him off, kicking him to the far side of the room, watching unsympathetically as realization dawns and self-implied horror seizes command. "Oh God, Buffy. I—"_

They hurt each other so much. How could love have come from that? 

And yet there had been. There had been so much love that she couldn’t…that… 

_"Love? Buffy?" Soft, strong hands traced paths through her sweat-laced hair. Pliable lips kissing the tears off her face. A protective hold guiding her head to his shoulder as he quieted her, soothingly stroking her back. Oh, for the feel of him! Even with his skin beneath hers, she could never get enough. The need for sanctuary she had never thought possible. "Come back to me, love. It’s just a dream. Let it go."_

_She opened her eyes to the familiar dark of her room. Cold breaths fanned her face, conducting her to the ocean blue of the man who loved her. The man she loved more than anything. Concerned understanding was what she found—not the tease that was supposed to come so easily for him. Things were new. They had only been together—really together—for a few days now. The ice they treaded was thin. They clung to each other for fear of an ominous release. The release that had even still yet to surface._

_Buffy saw him and waves of her nightmare flashed into blinding luminosity. She was so glad he was here. "Oh God," she cried desperately, clinging to him as though the world, for all its cruelty, would tear her away. "I killed her. I killed her again and again. I never stop killing her, Spike. I never, never stop!"_

_"You’re not killing anyone," he assured her. "It wasn’t your fault."_

_"Spi—"_

_"It wasn’t you." His cheek found purchase atop the crown of her head, and he nuzzled her hair languorously. "Let it go, pet. Just let her go. It takes time, but you gotta…you gotta let yourself heal. You can’t stay like this forever."_

_Time. Their motto. Several rumbles of humorless mirth escaped her wearily. "Time," she repeated. "That’s what we got, babe."_

_He grinned against her. "That’s right. That and each other."_

_She settled and began to calm, wave after wave receding dejectedly back into the voyeur of her guilt-driven sea. "Spike?"_

_"What, pet?"_

_"I can’t do this." Buffy felt him go rigid beneath her and grinned in spite of herself. This early in the relationship, it was likely for the better if she did not utter those words and pause ad infinitum afterward. "Not that this. I can most definitely do this." She nipped playfully at the base of his neck and felt him growl in aggravated relief._

_"Bloody vixen," he accused lightly, planting a kiss on her forehead. "What is it you can’t do?"_

_"The Hellmouth. I know it’s only been a few days, but…" She shuddered and his grip on her tightened without needing direction. "I can’t be here. Not now. Not for a long time. Take me away, Spike. Let’s get out of here."_

_It would be done. There was no doubt. If she had suggested that they leave at that minute, he would have obliged._

_"Right, love," he agreed, pulling away to kiss her mouth in everlasting reassurance. "We’ve leave tomorrow. First thing. Say goodbye to the Scoobies and we’ll be gone."_

To London, only to return the following year. The year before everything started. The year before they met Zack, Kelly, and formed the friendship that was quickly looking to last a lifetime. 

Or had been as of last night. Before… 

_"Oh God, Kel. You don’t know how bad I needed that…I’ve wanted you for hours."_

Just the thought of him with someone else…touching someone else. Laughing with someone else. Looking at someone else with those eyes that… 

Once upon a time, Buffy would have testified that shoving a that sword through Angel’s gut before Acathla swallowing him whole was the most painful experience she had ever undertaken. Next to watching him turn around and walk out of her life forever the following year. It seemed lifetimes had passed. The girl she was now was different. Matured. Reborn through trial and error and had known several deaths. The year that had known her resurrection saw the very worst of her, but it hadn’t been Angel that had held her hand. 

And in turn, she had hurt him. She hurt him again and again because she knew she could. Because she knew that he would take it. Because the love in his eyes never once wavered, despite how she tried to eradicate its existence. She wanted him to hate her, because god, things would have been easier. He would have killed her and everything would be once more the way it was supposed to be. 

But the love never diminished. Such to the point that he sought out a soul. And that period of not knowing—the frontage she had portrayed while feigning disinterest to her lover’s whereabouts, had secretly taken place of the worst feeling she had ever endured. Then he had returned, they had played at arm’s length, she had denied him, he denied her, she confessed her love and he rebuked. He had a soul and he didn’t want her to know. 

Then, miraculously, he gave it up. Once more. Because she needed it. And here they were. 

Hearing him moan another woman’s name had safely assumed its number one position among the worst feelings she had ever been asked to tolerate. And there had been some rough ones. 

Vengeance. That was what they needed. That was what they both needed. 

Only, looking into Zack’s eyes, she realized that they didn’t need Anya there to do it for them. 

Not when they could make it personal and take the matter into their own hands. 

The thought drifted into being at the same time; they knew for the look of understanding given. Understanding and trust. This was only tonight. Neither was daft enough to conceive that their problems would vanish because of sex. Hell, they would likely multiply. 

They traded another look, and simply didn’t care. Before the expected hesitation could creep into Buffy’s mind, Zack pulled her close and covered his mouth with hers. They remained locked for a few frozen, awkward seconds before the Slayer melted into him. Touches tentatively given and reciprocated. There were so many familiar things about him. The faint taste of cigarettes. The longstanding scent of alcohol, even if it was consumed days prior. The quaking of his arms as they wrapped around her, though notably for his own nervousness rather than the awe-inspiring worship that poured through Spike’s lips at every union. 

_No. Don’t think of Spike. This isn’t about him. This is about me. Don’t—_

Their tongues met, and her world dissolved to imagery. There could be no fooling Zack, and there certainly could be no second-guessing herself. This was about Spike. It was about Spike and Kelly. Were it not about them, this wouldn’t be happening. 

Hands began exploring softly, timidly, as though they expected the other to push them away if any inappropriate contact was made. Zack studiously avoided the swell of her breasts for such reason, instead resting his hand on the back of her neck to project more into their kiss. She, in turn, wrapped her arms under his and pulled him closer. Trying to block out…trying to…forget… 

And failing miserably. 

_"Slayer, that fucking tickles."_

_She giggled and deftly moved to the side of the bed as he lunged for her, missing horribly and nearly toppling to the floor. "Poor Spikey. What’s wrong? The Big Bad can’t handle a little torture? What sort of Big Bad are you, anyway?"_

_"Torturing utensils usually come in the shape of whips and chains, love," he argued as he rolled over and prompted himself on all fours, prowling toward her like a sleek feline. His eyes were sparkling wickedly, and he ran his tongue over his teeth in that way he knew made her go all weak at the knees. In a moment of ill-timed swooning, he was able to capture her wrist and hold it demonstratively in front of her. "Not sodding parrot feathers."_

_"I was trying to be…inventive?"_

_He grinned at her and managed to pry the feather from her clasped fingers. If she had wanted to keep it, overpowering him would have been an act of sheer simplicity. Slayer plus vamp abilities: major bonus in the strength department. But with that look in his eyes, Buffy clearly saw that trying to avoid whatever tactic he was up to would have been one of the more foolish rendezvous of her trial._

_"You’re cute when you’re inventive," he informed her, kissing her nose in verification. He rolled away before she could capture his mouth and begin a long and diversionary snogging session. "But otherwise, a bleeding amateur."_

_She pouted. How dare he look all kissable and just move away like that? Assholic pig. "Oh really? Think you can do better?"_

_Spike shrugged off-handedly. "Don’t like to brag, but—"_

_The pout vanished without prompt, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh please."_

_He chuckled but conceded without contest. "Right. Who am I kidding? I love to brag." He waggled his eyebrows at her and sidled up closer. "Luckily, you gimme plenty to about brag every night."_

_Buffy flushed as much as a vampire could but walloped him on the shoulder in protest anyway. No way was he winning that simply. He’d never let her live it down. "As if."_

_"You know it’s the truth, pet."_

_"You’re bent."_

_"And it makes you scream, doesn’t it?" He ran the feather lengthwise down his taut cheekbone, and grinned as she leaned inward to receive the same treatment. "That’d be the hundred plus years of…experience."_

_God, his voice did a number on her. Buffy shivered and tried to look resolved, failing miserably, but at least earning an A for Effort. "Enough experience to know what to do with that feather?"_

_"I’m hurt that you even need to ask."_

_"Something inventive?"_

_"’Course," he replied with the utmost seriousness. "Lay back."_

_She wanted to fight him but he delivered a look that clearly stated it would be well in her benefit to abide. That alone prompted her obedience. If Spike didn’t want to fight, then he must have something…interesting up his sleeve. Metaphoric sleeve, of course. Right now, he was scrumptiously..._

_"Comfy pet?" he purred, stirring her right out of her naughty thoughts. The shit-eating grin on his face informed her that he was perfectly aware of where her mind was. Hell, he could probably name the gutter. He had toured them all._

_"Shut up and get on with it."_

_"Mmm…love it when you get all sentimental."_

_"Spike!"_

_"Look here," he drawled cockily, sitting back. "She’s screaming my name already."_

_"Argh, you infuriating asshole! Just wait until…uhhhh…ohhhh…"_

"NO!" Buffy was across the room before she could even register the absence of Zack’s arms around her, the stunned expression coloring his features. The same that she reciprocated in the knowledge that his thoughts had been anywhere but with her. They were panting heavily, even if it was not needed. 

The air felt tainted. Dirty. 

"I can’t," she said apologetically. "I just…I know he…he hurt me, Zack. He hurt me so much. But I still…I love him, and I can’t…with you. With anyone. Vengeance or not. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry." 

Zack blinked, still a little dazed. His thoughts had definitely been on the plateau of elsewhere as he awkwardly attempted to fulfill forbid wet-dream #134. He knew it was bad when all he could think about was Kelly. About how warm she was. How vibrant and alive. How he could actually hear her heartbeat. How it didn’t feel like she was nothing more than… 

Buffy was much more than an animated corpse, but the thought had been there just the same. Still, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t slightly disappointed. He was, after all, a guy. And she was Buffy. Spike had braggingly told him on more than one occasion what sort of muscles a Slayer had. The sort that mortal women lacked. The sort that… 

Still. Buffy. Sister-like Buffy. Well, Buffy who was like a sister. Not Sister-like Buffy. She wasn’t a nun. Far from it. 

He shifted a bit and glanced downward. "Yeah. I…it’d probably be a mistake." 

"Big mistake." The Slayer sighed and shook her head. "I don’t like being used, Zack, and neither do you. It’d just…things would get weird. Even weirder than now. Not only with the entire situation, but also between us. You know?" 

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I know." 

"Good." She returned his smile best she could. It was nice to see her smile, even if it was forced. "I’m going to go find Giles. Knowing him, he and Xander probably relocated everything to the library." 

"Hell, I’m surprised the meeting wasn’t there to begin with," Zack agreed. "I mean, have you seen this library? It’s perfection in everything that is Giles." 

"Yeah." There was some awkward foot shuffling and hazarded glances. Then Buffy was moving for the door. "Ummm…see you around." Slam. And she was gone. 

And Zack was left alone with his thoughts. 

Again. 

Damn. 


	13. Chapter 13

Much like the night before, Spike was seated at the piano that offset the entrance to the Great Hall. It was currently his favorite place in the castle. The only place he felt welcomed; home. Like it was drawn there. More now than ever before, music was his escape. He relied on it no matter the emergency. No matter the feeling. True, he had always been partial to it, but ever since he and Zack formed their impromptu and likely doomed band, it had become his passion. His blood calling. All the poetry in the world transcribed in to harmonies. The same that he used to be so bad at. The same that the world had once mocked him for. A few of his works from the international best-seller that Ripper had swindled past him a few years ago had made it into song form. Others were coming shortly. He and Zack had a to-do list somewhere back home. 

Zack. Best chum. Bloody well hated him. 

Buffy. Slayer. Beautiful. Love of his unlife. Hadn’t said a word to him all day. 

Kelly. Misunderstood. Lovely. Strong. Suffering as much as he was. 

Rosie. Adorable. Understanding. Scarily intelligent. Was sitting beside him. 

He hated bloody love songs. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but he would rather shave his head than admit it aloud. In fact, restricting their music to a minimal of songs that had to do with love as opposed to sex was one of the rules upon joining the band. But lately, it was all he could think of. Sappy tunes, many melancholy or too burdened with emotion to allow him even time to breathe, should such mechanics be of the essence. 

Bloody wanker, he thought not for the first time. Or the hundredth. 

"Are you gonna sing, Uncle Spike?" Rosie asked. She loved listening to him sing. 

He managed to favor her with a smile, hands settling over the keys. "Only since you want me to, Sweets," he agreed begrudgingly, as though he had been planning on doing anything else. "Whaddya wanna hear?" 

"Don’t care," she replied angelically. God, he loved this girl. 

"Right." His hands began moving of their own volition, eliciting haunting notes that echoed far throughout the corridors of the castle. Again, he refrained from projecting his own work. The love songs he had defiantly written about Buffy (the same that the band had never seen, and bloody well never would) remained locked in his memory, but they were too fresh…too personal to dive into now. He felt he would break simply at the thought of what he was about to play. His own thoughts and feelings poured into music, knowing exactly whom it was about, might well be the end of him. 

_"I was all right…for awhile. I could smile for awhile…"_ He closed his eyes painfully and willed himself away. If he looked around, the words became too real. His situation became too real, and he couldn’t bear it _. "But when I saw you last night, you held my hand so tight…when you stopped to say hello. And though you wished me well, you couldn’t tell…that ‘d been crying…over you. Crying…over you. Then you…said, ‘So long.’ Left me standing…all alone. Alone and crying. Crying. Crying, it’s hard to understand…that the touch…of your hand…can start me crying."_

Spike opened his eyes fearfully. Rosie remained his single audience, and her gaze was wide and blazing with unshed tears. Great. He had made her cry…but he didn’t know if it was for his vocals or her perception to emotion. All he knew was it touched him, and he didn’t think he could stop. 

So he didn’t. 

_"I thought that I…was over you."_ A familiar scent tackled his senses, and Spike’s eyes pried open in time to see Buffy cross the doorway to the Great Hall. She slowed and peaked in, and it killed him to see the pain that flashed across her face. She was torn. Breaking. He wondered how it was for her. To think that he would…to be angry and…God, he didn’t want to know. It was morbid curiosity. 

Damn. His eyes were watering again. But he continued. He looked at her deliberately and continued. _"But it’s true, oh so true. I love you even more than I did before…but darling, what can I do? Oh, you don’t love me…and I’ll always be…crying over you. Crying over you. Yes…now you’re…"_ He lapsed briefly, unable to fathom the meaning of the word _. "…gone. And from this moment on…I’ll be crying. Crying. Crying, oh crying. Crying…over you."_

There were tears streaming down her cheeks now. Flowing like a river. It crushed him to cause her more pain, but if this was the only way she would listen to him, then he would monopolize its every turn. Very deliberately, he changed keys and kept his eyes on her the entire time, relying on one of her old favorites in the hopes that she would feel the meaning behind them. 

Oh God, because if she didn’t… 

The child sitting beside him quietly crawled off the piano stool and ventured over to where Buffy stood in the doorway. She observed the stubborn, silently sobbing adults with a façade of both confusion and acknowledgement. She knew far more than any child should; such that it was still freakishly simple to regard her as a child. 

Buffy didn’t argue when the girl took her hand. She didn’t pull or try to escape when she found herself being pulled across the room. Didn’t contest when the four-year old reached for her uncle’s hand and brought them together. Fingers interlaced; entwined. Holding. Skin-to-skin contact. 

For a blind minute, nothing existed. Buffy let out a muffled sob and lurched forward, arms swinging around Spike’s neck as his arms immediately wrapped around her waist. He buried his face into her hair and sobbed openly, clutching her as tightly as possible. They couldn’t get close enough. In silent refuge, they held each other and cried. Cried until there were no tears left. Cried until they had reason to make more. Cried and clutched and held in desperate attempt to reclaim whatever it was that had been lost. 

Spike pulled back slightly and began whispering soft kisses over her throat. His mind warned that he was caving, but at that minute, he didn’t care. He couldn’t. She was here. She was here and she was real, and she was in his arms. "God, Buffy," he gasped disbelievingly. "God, I missed you. Missed you, baby. So bloody much. Couldn’t…didn’t bloody well know what to do with myself. I’m so sorry. I don’…I can’t." His grip on her constricted, willing his skin to simply swallow her whole. Perhaps then they would be close enough. "Oh Buffy…missed you. Didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t…God, I love you. Love you, love you, love you. Love you so much. So much, baby. I can’t…" 

He vaguely registered that he wasn’t receiving any returned affirmation, but didn’t allow himself to dwell. It wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t be a dream. Her scent…the mark…the claim that stood proud on her throat. It was all too real to be a dream. She wasn’t pulling back, but she had stopped the delicate exploration over everything missed. 

Spike released a heady breath and pulled back. He had to see her eyes. Had to… "B-Buffy?" 

The expression he found was unreadable. Lost. Confused. Too humanized to be a bot, too foreign to be his. There was love there. There was most certainly love. Love scandalized by hurt. Love that was tainted. 

Love that was unreachable. She wasn’t trying to get away, but burying herself in his embrace had obviously been the last of her intentions. 

Then she inhaled, and her eyes widened. She pulled back visibly and he did not try to keep her. Rather, watched her intently, his head cocked, gaze imploring a silent question. 

One word. A name. 

"Dru." 

"Huh’s that?" 

"You…you smell like Dru." 

His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Sodding…I saw her earlier," he confessed. "Was trying to…well, I don’t know what exactly. Find that ole sod Dumbledore and get some answers. Find that Lecter prat and…find Darla and ask how the hell she got back. This it’s twice for her, y’know. I just…Dru was just there." 

"So you what? Decided to go a round with her?" 

"What?" 

"Spike, she’s all over you." 

"She had a bleeding vision! Had to…" He trailed off helplessly, irritation, despair, and outrage pouring through every vein. The immediate disregard for feeling was beginning to push all the wrong buttons. There wasn’t even an accusation. There didn’t have to be. He saw well what she was thinking without a single word having to escape her lips. "Look, I held onto her while the vision passed, all right? Nothing else. If you ask Cordy, I’m sure she can pass along how bloody painful they are. And I’m sorry if a hundred years worth of habit’s not exactly easy to break." When her gaze narrowed with incredulity and the more vibrant hurt, he all but throttled her. This had to end. Now. "You really think…God, you’re a piece of work! Look at me, you silly bint. I. Love. You. How could you even think that I’d ever want anyone else? That I’d bloody well see anyone else? You’re my everything, Buffy. I swear, you’ve gotta be dumb, deaf, and blind to not know that by—" 

Finalists for the World’s Worst Timing Ever Award have been decided. Kelly Morris, please step forward. 

The brunette spurned into the Great Hall in a hurry, breaking up whatever it was in a flash. The tenderness to coincide with accusation. "Spike!" she called desperately. "I’ve been looking all over for you. I just…" She paused when she saw them sitting on the bench together, loosely caught in an embrace. "Oh God! So sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just…be off and—" 

"No, don’t bother." In a flash, Buffy was up and moving out of the room. Spike watched her go, torn between tears and outrage. One accusation was enough, but this was getting ridiculous. First Kelly, now Dru? The Slayer was really off her bird. "I was just leaving. It was a mistake coming down here, anyway. Have fun, you two." 

The malice was not lost on either of them and while their eyes met for a long, burdened look, there was nothing left to say. Kelly merely pursed her lips and moved forward to collect a trembling Rosie, who looked nearly as devastated as the present adults. "I’m just…gonna go put her down for a nap," she said softly. "See you around." 

Alone again in the Great Hall. Spike leaned forward miserably, battling his resentful anger. It was too easy to get lost in a tirade of emotion. He couldn’t…he wouldn’t…he… 

"God, that was pathetic." 

Bloody perfect. "Afternoon, grandmum." 

Darla snickered at him as she moved forward from the head of the room. However long she had been there was anyone’s guess. "You know how much I hate that." 

"Yeah. That’s why I said it." He sniggered at her. "Not one to bow to the whim of courtesy ‘round here. ‘Specially for peeping toms of your bloody nature." 

"Ouch. That really…doesn’t sting." 

"Didn’t reckon it would." 

Darla smirked and ignored him, maneuvering her way around the piano and into his peripheral vision. "You know," she mused thoughtfully, "when the Master told me that Angel was a lovesick puppy, mooning and fawning over the Slayer, it shocked the hell out of me. Did it you? Weren’t you surprised? I couldn’t believe it. Angelus—ANGELUS—the fiercest of our kind, a whimpering lost little lamb at the Slayer’s beck and call. Even with that awful soul, I never thought I would see the day when he would crawl for something to the likes of…her." 

He was clutching the edges of the piano tightly, but he didn’t say a word. 

"You though, Spike. You’re a completely different story. When Dru told me that she had lost her dark prince to the Slayer…that was almost expected. You’ve always had a little unhealthy infatuation with Slayers, haven’t you? It was only a matter of time before you decided to shove your cock into one instead of your fangs. I can’t tell you how much that didn’t surprise me, regardless of your…soulful disposition. And you know why?" 

Spike yawned and slumped down a little further. Despite all resolve, her words hurt. The basis of all fear to a simple median. William the Bloody Badass reduced to something that…well, he supposed it was fair that his transformation surprised no one. "I’m sure you’re gonna tell me," he retorted boredly. 

Hands pawed at his shoulders; she was leaning over him before he could think to react. "Because you’re weak, William," she answered simply. "Always were. God, I could have staked Dru for making you. Had her eyes all peeled for a ‘wise and brave knight’…and she picked you instead. You…you are a disgrace to the Order of Aurelius. Always have been. Your…marriage to the Slayer…the fact that you actually accepted her claim. God, it’s enough to make a girl sick." 

Spike shifted uncomfortably, closing his eyes in an exercise of restraint as his jaw tightened and he schooled himself to release a long breath. "Why don’t you sod off, then?" he asked rhetorically. "if I’m such a bloody bother. Go on now, shoo. I’m not moving; I was here first." 

"Because I have a proposition for you." 

"Oh?" 

"The chance to redeem yourself." 

Spike refused to admit that could it beat, his heart would be racing. A simple perk to immortality; no one could successfully gauge a mood without knowing you well in advance. "I see," he retorted with feigned disinterest. "And how’s that?" 

Darla smiled, and it was quite possibly one of the more frightening things he had ever seen. "By giving in," she murmured. "Oh, don’t look so surprised, Spike. We’re tied through blood. Couldn’t break that bond no matter what you do. Even if you fucked every Slayer in the world, I’d still feel you. Rather annoying family ties you got going there. And I can feel you now. I feel your rage, Spike." She placed a hand over his chest. "It grows every minute, doesn’t it? The need to sink your teeth into the closest jugular that will take it. Human blood is so much sweeter than pig’s, don’t you remember? And you’ve thought about it. Oh, how you’ve thought about it. It’s that sort of thinking that you can’t keep away from family." She paused thoughtfully. "Only, Buffy hasn’t felt it, has she? She doesn’t have a single clue as to what you’re going through…and you two are mated and everything. Huh. Really makes you think." 

That was it. The final straw. Spike rose to his feet with violent insistence, blue gaze flashing dangerously. "Never happen," he snarled. "I’m not like you and the Great Poof now, Darla." 

"Don’t I know it? No soul to blame it on, and now there’s no chip to hold you back. Perhaps if you had the love of a woman who loves and trusts…" Her head tilted cruelly. "Well, doesn’t that just sting like a bitch? Tell me Spike…what is holding you back? Be honest." 

"What’s holding me back?" he retorted, ignoring the treacherous voice that arose inside and asked him the very same thing. "Things you’d never get. Things you’d never—" 

"Hello, had a soul once. As well as an impromptu case of humanitus. Wasn’t my most shining moment. You’re kinda preaching to the choir." Darla moved closer until her breath tickled his ear. "Sooner or later," she murmured, "you’re going to release your temptuous rage. You can’t fight what you are, Spike. The demon is there. It will always be there. And it’s just a matter of time before you realize it." 

Spike jerked away, eyes blazing with malice. The cold fingers of dread were beginning to spool around his heart, but he would not allow her to get to him. It was Darla. He knew Darla. And he knew how she played her game. 

"Never," he whispered, and turned to leave without so much as a farewell. "I’m not a monster." 

_I know I’m a monster._

"Aren’t you?" 

Her words burned. 

_"Are you really gonna hurt us?"_

_No._

But he feared for it. He feared for Rosie and Kelly, Buffy and Zack. He feared for everyone, because he couldn’t quite silence the voice that whispered a maniacal: It’s only a matter of time. 

*~*~* 

Thoughts were colliding in a front of senselessness. Every corner turned, Buffy found herself corrupted by the pit feeling of betrayal. Something within her screamed that she was acting erratically, especially since she had no proof, but choosing to accept Spike’s word over the more probable solution was not something she was prepared to do. Not with the sting of his more recent crimes filling the air. Kelly. The chip. He had lied about those, and there was no reason to think that he wouldn’t lie about Drusilla as well. He had been with the vampiress for over a century. She was supposed to…what…believe that he could waltz into any room, smelling to high-heaven of his sire, with his virtue fully intact? It didn’t work that way. 

The thought alone had her racing; the wounds spurned the day before deepening and growing in spades. The thought of him with…touching…it was enough to make her want to yank her hair out. However, there was no point in punishing herself. Not when she was the wronged party. 

It was time for some vengeance. All previous objections notwithstanding, it was time. 

She was a Slayer with a mission. A mission that failed to waver when she saw Zack walking down the hall. If anything, her determination strengthened. Every pained nerve screamed in sweet retribution. 

Spike was about to know exactly how it felt. And she would get some of her own back. 

"Hey!" Zack said, trying to dance around the awkwardness that had known the end of their last meeting. "Did you find Xander? He was looking for you—" 

Buffy wasted no time. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him intently against the stonewall, pressing her body against his and ignoring the stunned-silly expression on his face. "You know everything I said earlier about it being a mistake?" 

Zack had lost the ability to form words. Numbly, he forced himself to nod. 

"Well…" She tugged him closer. "I changed my mind." Then her mouth was on him. Hungry. Demanding. Tugging and pulling. Her teeth scratched at his lips, wanting but knowing not to draw blood. She shoved all thoughts of Spike to the far recesses of her mind. Vengeance. Oh, it tasted good. 

So good that neither noticed the heartbreaking roar that tore through the hallway until it was too late. 

*~*~* 

"Kel," Spike greeted as he jogged to catch up with the woman and her daughter. Darla’s words were still fluttering around needlessly in his head, and he was determined to eradicate them from existence. 

Kelly glanced up in surprise. "Hey. Didn’t expect to see you for at least five hours. I mean, the make-up sex alone—" 

He shook his head, ignoring the sharp jolt of pain that shot up his spine. "No make-up sex," he explained. "Slayer doesn’t trust me. You or me. Not a bleeding lick." 

"I’m sorry. I figured you would’ve chased her down when she left. You seemed to be…" Kelly trailed off obligingly when the hurt in his eyes intensified. "Well, before I came in and mucked everything up, you looked pretty cuddly." 

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah. Real cuddly. That was right before she climbed back onto her high and mighty horse and decided to accuse me not only of sleeping with you, but shagging Dru when I ran into her earlier today." He allowed a disbelieving chuckle to rumble through his throat. "God, everything is so mucked up." 

A tiny hand reached for his, and he opened his eyes to see Rosie, who was regarding him with uncharacteristic passiveness. Her gaze had not ceased its unremitting sympathetic understanding. For the life of everything, she looked to be at least a century old with knowledge. "I’m sorry I couldn’t help, Uncle Spike," she told him regretfully. 

His eyes softened. "It’s not your fault, Princess." 

Without warning, Darla’s words came soaring back, inexplicably drawing his attention to the innocent throb in the child’s throat. The continuous pump. Her tiny heart beating away merrily in an age-old tune that called him. That drew him closer and closer to… 

_Sooner or later, you’re going to release your temptuous rage. You can’t fight what you are, Spike. The demon is there. It will always be there. And it’s just a matter of time before you realize it._

Spike’s eyes widened in horror as he realized where his thoughts had led him, and he immediately backed off, unable to look at her. _Oh god oh god oh god._

_It’s just because she said so,_ he told himself. _You’re bound to notice what someone decides to point out._

Something told him it wasn’t that simple. 

"Spike?" Oh God, and now Kelly. He could hear her heart, too. Pounding merrily away, oblivious of his plight. The soft skin at her throat calling to him. Whispering little nasties about how good it would feel if he just gave in… "Spike, are you all right?" 

_Breathe in and out. Wait, don’t. You’re a sodding vamp. You don’t need to breathe. Okay. Think of something else. Sodding Manchester United. Love Boat. Passions. Is Timmy still down that bloody well? I…oh god…blood…so sweet…so…_

A noise in the hallway coaxed his eyes upward, and he saw red. 

Zack and Buffy. Buffy and Zack. Pressed against each other. Arms around each other. Mouths fused together in… 

Spike gasped loudly and clutched at his chest, falling backward and stumbling roughly against the wall. He heard two worried cries sound in return, but was lost. Too busy fighting. Fighting. Fighting the rage that burned from within. Fighting the need…the burning call for vengeance. 

His demon screamed. Roared. Seeing its mate in the arms of another… 

"Uncle Spike?" Vague. Was that Rosie? Of course it was Rosie. Who else called him Uncle Spike? "Are you all right?" 

God. He was going to kill her. Her. Kelly. All of them. And he couldn’t stop it. 

"No!" he screamed, clawing irrationally at his chest. "No! God, get away from me!" 

Kelly’s eyes were wide and fearful and she tugged Rosie behind her as she tentatively approached. "Spike?" she asked softly. "Spike, what’s wrong?" 

_"GET THE BLEEDING HELL AWAY FROM ME!"_ he screamed. Somewhere distantly, he registered that Zack and Buffy had disengaged and were approaching. But it didn’t matter. Oh, god, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t see. Could hear anything beyond the pounding in his ears. The demon’s roar as it spurned control over his more innate sensory. Before… 

"Uncle Spike?" The girl was sobbing now. Reaching for him and battling her mother so she could take her godfather in her small embrace. "Uncle…" 

He fell to the ground, body wracked with sobs and tremors. The very same that he could not battle away. Pain was all he felt now. Pain as the man tried to battle the demon inside. The man screaming in harrowed defeat, knowing the war was lost but fighting anyway. Fighting for a cause he could not see. "For God’s sakes, Rosie!" he screamed, clutching at his head. "Run away! Run away from me! _RUN NOW!"_

Kelly was frozen in place. She couldn’t fathom what was wrong, and though she knew that she needed to run, leaving this man was the last thing on her agenda. She was too foregone in concern to even notice Buffy and Zack trying to make heads or tails of this. Too lost to try and communicate to Spike the petrified look in his wife’s eyes—the same that flashed alongside the chords of relentless guilt and shame. 

"KELLY!" he snarled, eyes shooting open. Eyes that were tainted with red, sprout and bloodshot. "DON’T JUST STAND THERE, YOU DAFT BINT! TAKE THE GIRL AND GET AWAY FROM ME!" He fell wearily onto his stomach. "I can’t…I can’t hold on…I…" 

Spike remembered vaguely what it felt like to lose his soul. While the memory of obtaining one was something he would never forget, losing it at the end had seemingly melted into a haze. There had been blood spilt. So much blood. Blood from his battle with Buffy. Blood pouring from her skin as well as his. He remembered collapsing to his knees and begging Lurky to rid him of his humanity so that she might have hers back. He remembered it all too well. The knowledge that the demon would be in control. And it had hurt. He had screamed his pain, wrestling with the light as it fought to escape him. Wrestling eternally… 

And yet it could not compare to now. Now because the light that tried to escape was not placed there; it had been there all along. The consciousness that made him who he was. Spike the man, not the demon. Not the monster. Simply Spike. William the Bloody. Buffy’s mate and husband, Zack’s best friend, and everything in between. The light that spurned him from one extreme to the other was drawing away. Being forced by his most primitive instincts into a cell deep within him. A cell compact with locks and chains, and the key was lost. 

The key was lost. And so was he. 

And the minute that he opened his eyes, everyone knew it.

*~*~*

"Oz?" Willow called in desperation as she made her way around the endless corridors of the Hogwarts rooms. She knew that he would be in the area and she was determined to make things right. The anger raging inside of him was to a point that it scared her. "Oz?" She called out again. 

"Is everything all right?" Anya said walking up and startling the Witch. "I’ve been hearing lots of noise around here lately. I thought that the evil fashion designer was pinning guilt on Xander again." 

"No," Willow said still looking around. "I’m looking for Oz. We’ve had a fight and I need to talk to him. He’s angry with me." 

"Oz? The werewolf Oz? He gets angry? I didn’t know that about him. Sure, I’ve seen him mildly annoyed, but I didn’t know that he could become real angry without—" 

"Yes, its rare, but true," Willow said cutting her off. She was already high strung and listening to Anya vocalize things that she didn’t want to hear was not going to have a calming effect. She tried the ignoring tactic, but Anya’s voice wouldn’t stand for that. "Listen. If you see him, just let me know. If you could tell that to everyone, then I’d appreciate it." 

"Why don’t you just do a locator spell?" Anya said crossing he arms. "Wouldn’t that be easier on me? Then I wouldn’t have to do as much walking and talking." 

"Because," the Witch gave an exasperated sigh. "I promised Dumbledore that I wouldn’t use my magic here while Muggles were in the building. With all the problems that I have going on right now, I don’t need to add that to the list. Keeping good ties with the employer is a plus." 

"Fine. But it seems like you’re wasting time to me." Anya said. "Might be precious. Considering everything, you know." 

"Yeah…" Willow trailed off into her thoughts. With all the wackiness that is going on currently, she was sure that Dumbledore would find some lenience in her current plight. Besides, these people had all seen magic before. There wasn’t a soul here that hadn’t had a connection with it one time in their lives.

"So why are you guys fighting?" Anya said driving Willow out of her deliberation. 

"Huh?" the red head blinked. 

"Well, I doubt you were fussing over who got the bathroom first in the morning. So, what’s the gossip?" 

"Nothing," she grumbled. 

"Fine. I won’t tell. That’s so Lisa anyways. Just tell. Maybe I can help." 

"I…said Tara’s name instead of his." 

"Oh…during sex. Makes sense." 

"No," Willow said shaking her head adamantly. "Not…then. I just absently said ‘I love you Tara’ instead of ‘I love you Oz’." 

"So, you’re still a lesbian." 

"NO… I mean… I just said the wrong name. No big, but he thinks so." 

"Doesn’t that guy Freud say something about that? That when you accidentally say something you didn’t do it on accident." 

"Freud was a crackpot and it wasn’t a Freudian Slip. I just… said the wrong name. I love him no matter what." 

"So, are you still a lesbian?" 

"Ahhh!" Willow grumbled covering her ears. 

"Good thing that you’re aren’t a werewolf," Anya said in relief. 

"What? Why?" 

"Well," the former vengeance demon said with a shrug. "I’ve heard of werewolves changing if they experience uncontrollable surges of anger. Not too often, but I saw it once. There was this girl and she was so mad at her boyfriend for—" 

"Wait!" Willow said eyes wide in shock. "But, Oz… he couldn’t. He’s been able to control himself. And I don’t think it’s quite full moon." 

"But," Anya pointed out in a slightly annoyed tone. "If he’s experiencing anger beyond any that he’s ever encountered, then his animalesque tendencies might take over and let loose the wolf from inside." 

"How quickly does it happen?" 

"Well… if the anger is strong enough, it’s a matter of him simply letting go and giving in." 

"Oh God," Willow said quickly followed by the words for the locator spell. Within seconds, she was off down the corridor. 

*~*~*

When they all saw the look in his eyes, they knew that all good was gone from Spike’s body. The evil was so apparent, that he simply screamed from his eyes. But at the same time, everyone was in total shock from the sight. No one could move, but seemed planted to the floor with some form of invisible cement quickly drying upon their feet. 

Spike slowly crawled up off of the floor, a wicked look upon his face. He seemed to be eyeing the four before him in search of what his first conquest would be. Whether he would indulge his appetite, or finally finish off his long time enemy. 

That’s when Zack noticed that his wife and daughter were present and in immediate danger. No matter what was happening in their lives, he would protect Kelly with his life and Rosie was a given. He knew that it wouldn’t do much good, but he would give his life for the Slayer as well, or at a time, the demon before him that was determined to steal the ones closest to him. "KELLY!" He screamed with a primal voice deep inside. He didn’t have a feeling that life would all walk away from this spot and he wanted to make sure that his wife and daughter’s did. "LEAVE!" 

"He’s going to hurt us," Rosie gasped. She reached up and grabbed her mother’s hand and started yanking her in the other direction. "Mommy… he’s bad. He’s bad." 

"Zack!" She cried as she snatched her daughter and began to run. She was calling to him to follow her. Pleading. 

"No," He said eerily calm. Now that he knew that they were on their way out of harm, he began to watch Spike stalk around in anticipation of the pounce. "I love you… you both." 

"I love you, Zack," Kelly called. Alas, they were out of danger as he heard her voice trail out of earshot. 

With silence, the three of them stood on guard in the middle of the hallway. Knowing that final death would soon be upon someone who walked this path. 

*~*~*

"Oz!" Willow said running up to the man as he stood gazing out a window. The tenseness in his shoulders stated that he was far from happy, but she knew that she couldn’t let his feeling of anger continue much longer. 

"Go," he barked at her as she continued to approach. 

"No," she said calmly as she laid a hand upon his shoulder. "I really think that we should talk. I want to settle this someway. I want to make you happy." 

"You can’t," he said, still staring blankly out the window. 

"I’m sorry… I love you, Oz." 

He slowly turned to face her. His eyes were dark and could. "Tell me you don’t love her." 

"I don’t," she quickly lied. She was desperate to keep him from doing what she currently feared most. But that didn’t stop it. 

He saw her lie. Saw it easily roll off her tongue and he lost it. He tore her hand off his shoulder and shoved her away with such force that she fell over. Then, before her eyes, he grew into his wolf state. There would be no mercy for her. She knew that he would end her life if she tried to stand her ground. 

So she ran. She ran as fast as she could as she heard him quickly follow. She ran so fast that she ignored the horrific cries coming from up ahead. 

*~*~*

"No," Giles sighed as he finally succumbed in taking off his glasses and doing the typical hem-polish. "I don’t believe that it would be a good idea at all, Xander." 

"I think you’re just chicken. C’mon G-Man. The big bad Rupert Giles in fishnets. That’s just the pick-me-up that everyone needs right now. Don’t you think?" 

"I don’t think that me playing the part of a ‘sweet transvestite’ will solve the serious situations that we have developing here. Not at all. So please…please don’t ask again." 

"Fine, fine. I just know that it would help pick me up a little." 

"Sorry, truly I am…but no." 

Their conversation was interrupted by a little growl that came from Stephen. He was determined to eat a book after Lisa pawned him off to his father nearly twenty minutes ago. Giles and Xander concluded that a two-month-old version of Witchy Woman magazine was their best bet. He had already eaten half of it and was moving on to the fashion section. 

"Do I sound like a bad dad when I say that I don’t know how he’s mine?" Xander said quietly. 

"The thought was actually in my mind as well." 

"I mean, I know that I can be a real pain in the ass, but he just seems… not Harris-like." 

"He’s most certainly not like his father," Giles agreed as he watched the small boy roll around the ground knowing on the paper like a starving hyena. 

"And… do we look alike?" Xander asked with trepidation. "Because…. He kinda has an Asian-black thing going on. Not that I’m a racist," he said throwing his hands in the air. Giles nodded his understanding. "But… he looks like all of Lisa’s family. I hoped that he would have a little…me in him." 

"It’s an understandable reason for disappointment. I just didn’t see that much Asian Pacific heritage in Lisa either. But any father would like a resemblance between him and his son. You should know that even though it might be too late for you and Lisa, you are still too young to give up on the hope of having other children." 

Stephen reached out and clamped his jaw on Giles’s ankle, sending out shooting sparks of pain and a yelp from the Watcher. 

"You really think I should create more of these things?" Xander said in horror. 

*~*~* 

When Willow ran right into Buffy, things turned even more ugly. Zack turned to see that an evil vampire and equally evil werewolf surrounded him. "Buf, I think we have a problem." 

The Slayer turned to see the newest arrivals and groaned. She was facing her deepest fears all in one sitting and with thoughts she was afraid that she might have to kill the one man she had ever truly loved with all her heart and soul. The man she had planned forever with. 

Spike lunged in threat with an evil laugh erupting from his throat. His dark side was simply reveling in their fear. Oz also crept closer. 

Zack’s manly instincts told him to defend the ladies. He first when to cover Buffy, but one shared look reminded him that she was the Slayer and a vampire. If anything, he needed her protection. 

But then he noticed Willow. The werewolf was about to strike and he would protect her with his life if need be. Him and Willow were close, but since she had been teaching at Hogwarts since his real arrival in Sunnydale, he hadn’t the chance to get as close as Buffy or Spike. 

The next few seconds proved to be overly anticlimactic. As wolf and demon circled, each flashing canines threateningly, something occurred that neither had been prepared for. A shot rang through the air and a pitiful whimper died with it. Before anyone could fathom what had occurred, Oz growled in defeat and toppled forward, landing in a heap at Spike’s feet. 

The reaction was simultaneous. Everyone paused and whirled around. Wesley stood unmoving at the opposite end of the corridor, a tranquilizer-gun clutched tightly in his hand. It was the first time any of the Sunnydale Scoobies had seen his complete transformation from pansy-Watcher to expert demon-hunter. His usually animated brow was studiously lowered, darkened eyes regarding the monster in question with distinct indifference. 

"Spike," he said coldly, not reacting to snarl his observation earned in turn. He kept his aim trained, moving slowly up the corridor. 

The vampire gave no hint of recognition. His neon eyes blazed with unkempt excitement, and he flashed his incisors menacingly. However, any action on part of the outraged demon was fiercely disturbed—Drusilla, Darla, Clarice, and Angelus turned into the hall behind the Watcher, all regarding him with small smiles of approval. 

"There, now," Darla cooed to a delighted Dru. "Didn’t I tell you that your prince would be back to himself?" 

The crazed vampiress squealed merrily. "He wants to dance with her," she said, favoring Buffy with a challenging gleam. "Ohhh, he wants to eat her heart out." 

Angelus snickered. "Take out the ‘heart’ part and you’ll be on the right track there, Precious." 

Darla favored him with a lavish leer. "Come now, dear," she berated mockingly. "No need to be crude." The two enjoyed a private moment of introspection and grinned. They both ignored the brassed look that Clarice tossed in their direction. 

"Mmmm…" Drusilla mused, stepping forward. Her influence as Spike’s sire could not go untended, and even in his most primitive state, he reacted to her. "He’s such a good boy. Aren’t you, William? Ohhh, I knew you would come to play." 

For the moment, Spike seemed detained. Docile. Rendered under the hold of his maker. While he snarled still and the tension routing his body refused to deviate, the immediate threat passed. All eyes fell to Drusilla, acknowledging that if she cared to, she could uplift her hold and the monster would once again be free. 

But the hold was there for a reason. 

Tentatively, against the feverish whispers of Zack and Willow, Buffy hazarded a step forward. Her eyes never left Spike’s form, even as his growls warned her away with every pace that drew her nearer. "What have you done to him?" she asked softly. 

"Us?" Darla retorted, rolling her eyes. "God, Angelus…for a Slayer, she’s not too bright, is she?" 

"Must say she and William are well-matched in that department," he agreed. 

"We did nothing," she continued, stifling a chuckle though the look of amusement failed to wither. "It was you. You and your mistrust. Lesson the first, dearie: treat a man like a man, and he’ll stay a man. Treat a man like a monster, and he will believe himself a monster. Treat a monster like a monster, and…well…the monster comes out." She took a few steps forward, admiring Spike’s animalesque brutality. He snarled and whipped his head as though trapped in an unseen force field, even if he could move of his own volition. That had seemingly escaped his attention. "Poor William," she mused. "Forced all the way back to his roots. You must really have some hold on him if seeing you wrapped around another made him react like this." 

Buffy and Zack exchanged a guilty look. 

Wesley turned to them in astonishment. "You two…?" he questioned. 

"We were trying to get back at him," Zack murmured. "At them, rather. Spike and Kelly." 

"For sleeping with each other." 

"What?" Willow demanded. The past few days had seen her completely wrapped up with her own problems that she hadn’t followed the rift in the Morris/Bloody marriages to any certain degree. She had simply figured that Kelly had found out about the smoking and nightly trips to Willy’s…which even she knew about from her weekly reports with Buffy. "Are you crazy? Spike would never, ever sleep with someone else. Besides, Christ, he’s your total best friend, Zack! He wouldn’t ever hurt you like that." 

"We heard them…" Zack argued weakly, conviction wavering from his tone. 

"My Spike does not touch the girl," Drusilla insisted, stepping back as a hazed glance came over her. "He watches over her and the lamb to keep them safe from the evil wolf, but he must keep his hands clean. Dirty waters never mended broken eggs. Miss Edith told me so." 

Everyone stared at her blankly. "What does that mean?" Zack finally demanded. 

"Duh?" Willow retorted. 

"It means, idiot, that your dear Kelly never fucked our William," Angelus sniped, delighting in the realization that overwhelmed two horrified expressions. As if they had never considered it before. As if they hadn’t heard pledge after pledge of good intent, seen the evidence for themselves presented fairly in a manner that was much easier to believe than whatever lie concocted by mistrust. "I thought I told you that Spike wasn’t man enough to sleep around. He was never too inventive on where to stick his dick." 

"He protects the lamb," Drusilla agreed. "The lamb and his sister. Caught together in a storm. The Shepard is gone, and now the beastie can have his dinner." 

"I don’t know about you, Dru," Angelus said, stepping forward. "But that beastie looks pretty hungry to me." 

"Daddy’s right," she agreed. Her eyes then turned to the horde of humans standing at convenient proximity, and she cackled once more with insatiable delight. "And look at all the goodies." 

"Yes." Darla nodded conversationally, sparing Angelus a brief glance. "They created the beast. I believe they should be the first to sample his true potential." 

"You would do wise to step aside," Wesley advised, raising the tranquilizer gun once more in effort of warning. "Did you really think that we were not prepared for this?" 

It happened too quickly to follow relying on eyesight alone. When he cared to, Angelus could move with such rapidity that it was impossible to keep up. A blur of movement, and the Watcher found himself pinned against the stone wall; his gun lay uselessly at the floor beside him. 

"Now, now, Wesley," the vampire berated, effectively shifting to game face. "Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s not nice to point at others?" 

"Rot in hell," Buffy spat, voice wobbly for an influx of emotion. They were the only words she could form since Drusilla’s revelation that Spike’s current state was at the blame of her mistrust. The animal in him snarled at her viciously; an attack dog weary on the approaching enemy. When he looked at her, she saw nothing but hate. Malice. The need to slash and tear the skin from her bones. The covetous mate. Yes, this was what her own infidelity had purchased. Her infidelity that was inspired by the fictionalized account of his own. 

From behind her, Angelus chuckled humorlessly. "Gotta say, Buff," he commented. "You’re not exactly inventive. The entire ‘Hell’ thing? Been there, done that. Déjà vu just isn’t what it used to be." 

"What did you mean…" Zack began slowly, "that he protects the lamb?" 

Drusilla glanced up and cocked her head to the side. "Funny soldier seeks back his life," she began, tone indicating a nursery rhyme. "My William stands to protect your wife. He knows she carries the son of his friend. But like all others…" Her eyes turned back to Spike, glimmering in barely contained glee. "Good things must end." 

There they were: the entire remaining staff that concocted the Order of Aurelius. The fiercest pack of vampires to grace the pages of history books. The source of entire sections in the Watcher’s Diaries, complete subdivisions in demonesque libraries. All except Clarice, who had yet to prove herself. But she was a part of the Order as well. 

And there was no escaping the castle. 

Without so much as a flicker, Drusilla released her sire-hold on Spike, and the snarling vampire immediately leapt free of his bounds. He rose to his feet slowly, eying his former best friend and the love of his unlife, turning a cracked head to Wesley. 

"Spike…" Buffy whispered, eyes clouding with tears. "Oh God, Spike, I’m so, so sorry." 

That only seemed to agitate the demon further. With a terrific roar, he leapt at them, only to find himself suspended in the air with a sudden incursion of magic from Willow, who stood wearily at the side. 

"God…" she muttered, stepping forward. "God, what have you done to him?" 

"Okay, this is beginning to bore me," Darla announced. "Angelus?" 

"Right," he agreed. "Clarice, darling? You hungry? ‘Cause I know I’m famished." 

"What happened to the ‘we won’t kill you unless you give us reason to’?" Willow asked, even though she knew the answer. Evil demons had no motivation in keeping their promises. Such was a given, and she felt foolish for even allowing the words to escape her lips. 

"Oh, they’re not going to be the ones doing the killing," Angelus assured her. "My Darla always keeps her promises. Don’t you, sweetheart?" 

"Always," she agreed in a tone that clearly indicated she did anything but. "However, I believe Dru and I will be feasting on the outcome." 

"Oh yeah," Drusilla complied, licking her lips. 

From his position of simply dangling in the air, Spike snarled and struggled, but the Witch’s hold proved to be too much for him. It wasn’t until Angelus came forward and lunged at Buffy that he was capable of overpowering the bond. Spike crashed to the ground with an empty ‘umph,’ but instead of turning against those who had betrayed him, he threw himself at Angelus and wildly clawed at any flesh he could find. 

"Gotta get out of here," Willow said. She raced over to help Wesley to his feet and grabbed Zack’s wrist with his other hand. Buffy stood prostate where she was, looking for a chance to intervene and assist her husband against his grandsire, but when the wolf at her feet began to whimper and reengage his consciousness, Zack screamed at her to follow. Slayer or not, vamp strength or not, there was no way she would survive the attack of four soulless demons, one crazed vampire, and a werewolf. 

"BUFFY!" 

In a daze, she allowed herself to be dragged away, skin tingling in lasting numbness. It wasn’t until they were in the hall that housed their individual bedchambers that she struggled and pulled away, collapsing in defeat against the wall. 

"Buffy, come on," Zack urged. "It’s only a matter of time before he—" 

"This is all my fault," she whispered. 

"Okay: running now. Pity party later," Willow agreed, stepping forward. "Spike’s reaction back there was random at best. He only attacked Angelus because his demon somehow registered that he was putting his mate in danger." 

"So that’s good, right?" Wesley asked. "As long as Spike knows that she’s—" 

The Witch cut him off with a shake of the head. "Spike’s demon knew it was her and reacted instinctually," she explained. "He can’t help that. If she’s in danger, he reacts. However, since she…" 

"It won’t stop him from hurting me himself," she murmured. "Or trying." 

"Or anyone else, for that matter," Willow concluded. 

"Well, aren’t you a barrel of sunshine-shaped good news?" Zack snapped. 

"Hey! Don’t go finger-pointing at me, Mister!" she retorted hotly. "It wasn’t my bright idea to sell tickets to Smooch-A-Thon Starring Zack and Buffy! What were you two thinking?" 

"Listen, you don’t know what we heard—" Zack began. 

"Whatever it was, did you even bother to listen to what they had to say? Did you even give them the benefit of a doubt?" Angrily, Willow shook her head. "NO! For God’s sakes, look at the two of you! Zack, I know you’ve had your problems with Kelly, but do you really think she’d try to sleep with your best friend…again! She’s been there, and done that. She knows it leads to badness. Give the girl some credit!" With even more conviction, she pivoted to Buffy. "AND YOU! God, where do I even begin? Spike loves you. He’s never loved anyone like he loves you. He’d never, ever do anything to hurt you. It’d be like hurting himself. Not to mention…" She turned back to Zack. "He’s loyal. He loves the both of you. He’d rather stake himself than do anything to…" She broke off, shaking her head with pure irritation. "I really can’t believe either one of you. And now look at it! Look at what you’ve done to him! I have a right mind to—" 

"Run?" 

"What?"

Zack pointed to the end of the hallway. A very mad Spike, growling lowly in the back of his throat, was turning the corner. 

"Run," Willow agreed, forgetting her argument in a heartbeat as the four turned at the heel and tore up the hallway once more. 

They ran to the end of the hallway before Willow realized that she had a plan. She grabbed Wesley and called Buffy and Zack, who were up ahead, to fall back. Zack hesitated, but soon, both he and the Slayer followed. 

"This better be good," Zack snapped as they followed Willow into what appeared to be Giles’s room. "Because, I don’t feel like dying today." 

"Don’t worry. Just shut up." With that, the Witch recited a spell that seemed to the others to present no result. They all heard the growls of the monster quickly approaching the door. 

"What did you do?" Buffy asked. She could hear Spike right outside the door now and she knew that he could distinctly smell her scent, and the simple wood was no barrier. 

"I put a spell on the door. He can’t get in. He won’t be hurt, but he simply won’t get the knob to turn." 

"Dear God," Zack said nearly choking with emotion as he sank to the floor. He cradled his head in his hands for a few minutes before looking up at Buffy with tear streaked cheeks. "What did we do? What did we do to him? To her?" 

Regret overwhelmed him as he began to allow his sobs to be heard. He not only ruined his own marriage with his mistrust and bitter anguish over the past, but he destroyed his best friend’s and possibly the man’s life itself. 

"It’s my fault," Buffy said sitting gingerly on the bed as she stared off to a point unknown. She wanted to cry, but the dismay of it all was too great at the moment. "I should have trusted him. It all makes sense now." 

"It was me," Zack said still crying in a way that no man should in public. "I broke the trust." 

Wesley and Willow were helpless on what to do to help their pain, so they began looking through all the books that Giles had in his room for possible solutions to the problems at hand. 

"You didn’t do it. I did. I kissed you. I didn’t trust Spike because a part of me only wanted to see the monster. I created this monster." 

"I brought my problems to a perfect marriage." 

Buffy finally brought her gaze to Zack. "Well, we brought two vampires with issues to an already troubled one." 

Zack had to smile despite his inner pain. Then the smirk fell as he added, "Besides, I kissed you first. So, we’re the cheaters. Not them." 

Tears began to trickle down Buffy’s face. "How could we? How could we do this to them?" 

Zack’s eyes went wide. He no longer heard the beast trying to get inside the protected sanctuary. It symbolized that he could be anywhere inside the premises. But, his wife. His poor heart-broken Kelly, was somewhere in harm’s way. Both she and Rosie didn’t have the same protection as he did now. And if he knew anything about Spike, a connection world be made to seek them out. But the Spike of now wouldn’t want to protect "the lamb" or "his sister". The monster would love nothing more than to feast on his wife and children. 

Children. Everything finally hit with a brutal shock. Kelly was pregnant with a baby. His baby. His wife was nervous because he had said that he didn’t know about raising more children in Sunnydale. But he was ecstatic. He was the father. Not Spike. Not Slater. Not anyone but him. He didn’t know why he decided to believe now when he wouldn’t before, but he did. A brief wave a joy filled his system before his world came crashing down. 

He scrambled toward the door, still on hands and knees. He pulled himself up as he swung the door open and was down the hall in seconds. His wife was out there and he wasn’t going to stop till he saved her.


	14. Chapter 14

"Is it just me, or is it feeling extra creepy around here?" Donna asked Dawn as they walked toward the library. Donna long since decided to leave Ferris and Josh to bicker about the end of their musical aspirations. The tension between her and Josh was mounting so fast that she didn’t know what to do to contain it. Mainly because she didn’t want to contain it all. 

"I know what you mean," Dawn said looking around, somehow thinking that a demon would miraculously pop out of nowhere to confirm their suspicions. 

"Hello, ladies," a voice called behind them. 

A brief glance confirmed their suspicions. "Slater," Dawn growled. 

"Geez. Don’t have to get so cold," he said coming up and playfully putting his arms around the women’s shoulders. 

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," Donna warned wiggling free from his unwanted embrace as Dawn followed suit. 

"Why? Don’t tell me: you’ll sick Billy Idol and his girlfriend on me." 

"She’s the Slayer," Dawn defended of her blood. "And her husband, Spike." Then she muttered under her breath. "Besides, Billy Idol copied him." 

"Didn’t mean to cause something." 

"Then die…again," Donna snapped. "Besides, and don’t take offense Dawn, but you’re hitting on me and a child." 

"You didn’t want me to take offense?" Dawn stammered. "Well…taken!" 

"Yeah," Slater said walking more toward Dawn’s side of the hallway. "Pretty is pretty. No matter the age." 

"And she’s at least what… ten years younger?"

"She’s over 18. That’s legal even here in merry old England." 

"Fine then. But we can do better than you," Donna said pulling Dawn’s hand as they reached the library doors. 

"Don’t see you with a man," Slater said saucily, eyeing Donna another time. 

"For your information, I do have a man. Jo—" Her eyes went wide as Dawn’s filled with glee. She quickly tried to amend herself. "John. His name is John." With that, they walked in the door. 

"Hello ladies," Xander said in a much less flirtatious way than the persistent jock did just minutes earlier. "Slater," he added in much a more harsh tone. 

Both women rolled their eyes as they sat down at the table with the Watcher and friend. Dawn spoke. "He won’t leave us alone." She then turned to Giles and whispered in desperation. "Giles, he’s hitting on me. Will you make him stop?" 

Giles’s eyes first grew wide, then dark and cold. He had always considered Buffy to be his daughter, but since Dawn was no longer the Key, but the Slayer’s sister, he had instinctively formed a paternal bond to her as well. He eyed Slater as he slowly stood up. 

"Whoa, Grandpa," Slater snickered. "I was just playing around." 

"There will be no playing around with her," he said cracking his knuckles. "Let’s hope that you understand that. If you touch a bloody hair on her head, I’ll..." Giles was so enraged by this womanizing scum, but a glance around the table proved that there were ladies present. He growled before amending, "Let’s just say that Spike will be the least of your worries." 

As if in perfect cue, two more bodies raced into the library. This time it was Wesley and Willow. "Giles!" They both panted in unison. 

"How come I think this is bad?" Xander reflected. 

The comment went ignored as Willow gasped for breath to explain. "We have more…trouble…" 

"Spike," Wesley panted. 

"And you were saying?" Slater said mocking the Watcher. 

Slater went blatantly ignored. "What is it?" Giles said offering a chair which both declined. 

"Zack ran off," Wesley said slowing gaining bursts of breath. "Buffy followed. My guess is that he’s on the lookout for Rosie and his wife." Even those who weren’t as close to the Scooby gang could always remember sweet little Rosie. 

"What?" Dawn demanded. 

"Spike caught Buffy and Zack…" Willow didn’t want to finish the sentence. 

"Sex?" Donna had to ask as she knew no one else would. 

"No," Willow quickly clarified. "Kissing. Stupid revenge. But he flipped out. Berserk. Completely." 

"How so?" Giles said looking to the ex-Watcher for further explanation. 

"He seems to have gone back to the most primal of roots. More soulless than any vampire I’ve seen. The animalesque nature he’s exerting is like that of a… a beast." 

"And Zack is worried that Kelly is in danger?" Giles said already getting up to head for the door. He didn’t wait for an answer. "Buffy?" 

"She’s safe for the moment. We cast a spell to keep him out of the room when the door was shut."

"Do that to all the rooms. Can you?" 

"Sure. I’ll try." 

"Come on, Wesley. Willow, see if you can find a spell to stop him." 

"What about us?" Donna asked. 

"Research and don’t leave. This is going to become our base camp until we can settle all these problems. At first I thought that they might be coincidence, but now I know it’s not." With that, he was out the door with Wesley in tow. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he’d be damned if he stood back as terror reigned on those he loved. 

*~*~*

"Mommy," Rosie pleaded. "Where are we?" 

"I don’t know," Kelly cried as they wandered lost through one of the dark corridors. She simply knew that this was one of the forbidden ones that Harry Potter himself may not have yet investigated. 

Both were crying uncontrollably as they tried to find a familiar sight. Both were scared beyond belief and afraid that their father and husband may be lying dead or injured somewhere in the very same castle they were frantically trying to escape. 

"We should go downstairs… shouldn’t we?" Kelly asked more herself than the four-year-old whose hand she held. She reached down to pick her up and began to run toward the end on the ongoing tunnel. 

"Momma. I’m scared," Rosie whimpered into Kelly’s chest. 

"We’ll be OK, sweetie. See, I think that I see something down there." Honestly, she couldn’t see much of anything with the stingy mixture of sweat and tears that filled her blurred gaze, but she could make out the end of a hallway. 

"Did we come this way?" Rosie asked the question that Kelly couldn’t answer. Panic and sheer confusion made of corridor of Hogwarts blend into one endless stream of similarity. 

"As long as we get out, I don’t care." She ran forward as she took a moment to close her eyes and ease the throb that pulsed through her skull. The brief flash was just enough for her to run into something. Rosie yelped as she was smashed between her mother and object, but Kelly braced her daughter as she flew backwards and hit the ground. She didn’t know the damage to the unborn child the fall caused, but her daughter would be hurt no more than she already was. 

Kelly opened her eyes and was taken aback so much that she couldn’t breathe. 

The neon eyes stared back at them as Rosie opened her mouth and let a blood-curdling scream. Fear was not only present in the small child; it was currently her entire being. 

"Spike," Kelly gasped as she finally took a breath. She quickly scrambled to protect her daughter from the death filled gaze. 

"Well, isn’t it just perfect. Two rightly tasty morsels out where no one will their screams of agony," He drawled. The wicked smile upon his face, made the soulless presence even more mortifying. 

"Please…please don’t. Hurt me. Kill me. But leave Rosie alone," Kelly rambled as she scurried to get off the ground. She started edging down the hall while keeping Rosie as away from the demon as she could. She looked into his dark gaze as she continued her plea. "She’s innocent. The old Spike… the real Spike, wouldn’t hurt her." 

He let out a heartless laugh as he slowly walked toward her. "Do I look fake to you? Let’s just say I’m not. ’Sides, there’s nothing’ better than the blood if the innocent." 

"Rosie," Kelly said reaching around to squeeze her daughter’s hand while never taking an eye of the threat before her. "In a minute, run when I tell you to. And never look back. No matter what." 

"No," Rosie said pulling away from her mother’s grasp and from behind her protection. She stepped out to face the monster face to face. "Leave. Leave Mommy and Daddy and me and Uncle Spike! Leave Aunt Buffy and leave SPIKE!!!" She screamed as high as her vocal chords could go. 

"Stop sticking your nose where it don’t belong, pup." 

Rosie sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Her eyes were filled with hate and fear. She feared the beast in front of her, but she hated it for stealing her uncle away. "You’re not him." 

"And points to the girl who’s a bit too smart for her britches," He stepped closer. "Now… It’s time to say goodnight. ’Cause from here on out, it’s lights out for you." 

"I hate you!" 

"Damn nosy little pup! You get down here and take your medicine." With that, he picked the small child up by the shoulders and was preparing to sink his teeth into her moist pink flesh. 

He didn’t even realize the strike until it occurred. For the briefest moment as he witnessed Rosie thrown to the ground, he regained a sense of his true self, but the moment didn’t last long enough to evoke a word. Kelly had sneaked in from behind and whacked his with a portrait from the wall. It did not hinder the vampire in the slightest, except to cause him to toss the child against the wall. 

"Rosie!" Kelly cried as she saw her flesh and blood tossed around like a rag doll. She was still in too much pain from the sight to fight back as the same brutal pair of hands slapped her to the ground with such force that she was unconscious before she ever made contact. 

*~*~*

Zack heard the screams and had followed from the floor below. He knew that Buffy was right behind him, but he only had one thing one his mind at that point: save his wife and daughter and tell them how sorry he was. 

He didn’t think that his pain and anger could burn stronger when he saw his daughter thrown against a wall, but when his wife went flying to the floor, all rationality ceased to exist. 

He growled as he sailed into the air and landed on the beast’s back. "Fucking bastard!" He latched onto the monster’s neck and kicked with all his might. 

It took only seconds before Zack was lying on his backside, looking up into the neon eyes. "Nice. Got any more parlor tricks?" 

Zack crawled up slowly as he faced the body of a man once called his best friend. He rubbed his head gingerly before running in for round two. 

Rosie was bleeding, but conscious. "He’s going to hurt us," she said with calm assurance when she met the Slayer’s gaze. "He’s going to hurt us until we die." 

"No," She said as she rushed to the child’s side. "That won’t happen. Just get out of here now." 

The girl nodded. "It will happen," She said with expressionless eyes. "I saw it. I saw it all." 

"You what?" Buffy was under too much at the moment to comprehend fully what Rosie might be implying. She quickly threw Kelly over her shoulder and took them to the closest room and shut the door. 

Meanwhile, the vampire was nearing his fallen friend from where he had again tossed him against the wall. Zack had managed to snag a mean right hook at Spike’s chin, catching skin with his wedding band, but nothing to hamper the demon’s advance. With a defiant tsk, he shook his head, eyes sparkling maniacally. 

"Well, looky here," he drawled. "What do I spy with my little eye? Couple crashers it’s what I spy. It’s not like you haven’t been thinking of doing the same to your missus, is it now, Morris? Tasty little trollop that you’ve got caught on your leash, making sure she heels whenever you bloody well decide she’s ventured out far enough." He snarled sadistically and took another step forward. "’S not enough for you, though? Snagging up other blokes honeys, as though you have some bleeding justification. It’s right shame to be you, innit? Can’t keep a bird happy and she runs off to your best mate. She keeps you happy, and you run off to your best mate’s dish. Full circle. Round and round we go. Loopty loop, all over a-bloody-gain. Did she like it when you stuck it to her? Did she scream? Did she—" 

Through his seething anger, that one consistency came forward, and Zack’s eyes shot open. "I didn’t!" he protested. "We didn’t have sex! It was just—" 

Spike cocked his head curiously. "Now, doesn’t that sound familiar? For your information, I know you didn’t. Never had the stones to muck up someone else’s…oh wait…guess you did at that." He snarled and kicked the man once in the stomach, causing him to double over in agony. "No, no. I know nothing but your mouth got inside her—and not even the good end, if you get my meaning. Y’know why?" 

Zack glanced up painfully and watched as Spike tapped the side of his nose. A haunting portrait of Kris Kringle in The Night Before Christmas—a demon swallowed in red. 

"I can smell you, you dolt. Something the Slayer never took into account, that nosy bloody jumps-to-conclusions bitch. But it’s not nice to be accused, is it, Morris? To know you’re—" Kick. "Perfectly—" Punt. "Innocent—" Slam. "And suffer your bloody pity party while everyone around you believes the wanker in the back. Just because you’re a sodding soulless demon. Now, do you call that fair?" 

Courageously, Zack fought to a semi-stance, eyes seething with manifest hatred. Manifest hatred that did not know where to be directed. The cloud of hasty irrationality that formed at seeing his family being terrorized from his once-friend was attempting once more to form coherency, though he admittedly did not know where to begin. He could not hate Spike—not when he had had part in what the demon became. He could not hate the demon because it was his own. The demon symbolized everything that had torn their families apart. Distrust, jealousy, infidelity, secrets and lies. And while it was the most tempting, he could not hate himself. He knew if he caved to the whims of putrid self-loathing, the demon would overpower him all too easily. 

However, the words that tumbled through his lips reflected none of this. If the demon saw him waver, it would be the end, and Zack was not going to go down without a fight. He would expect no less from Spike, and Spike from him. It almost seemed fitting that they would destroy each other. 

"Yeah, I call it fair," he spat. "’Cause I gotta tell yah—right now—not giving me a lot of incentive to trust the soulless demon." 

Spike’s eyes flickered dangerously. "I gave you every reason, you ungrateful whelp!" From his vantage point, reaping damage came quite simply. The vampire snarled again and backhanded Zack to the wall once more. "You wanna pick the times? The dates? I can go on for-sodding-ever. Perk of being of the immortality side." He hit him ferociously, though his friend’s head had nowhere to go but back. "Bloke goes to the bloody end of the world to protect the one he loves and she still doesn’t bloody trust him! I gave up everything! Sold my soul—literally—to give her one for the keeping. Denied myself everything ‘cause I knew it’d be worth it. Worth it! What a sodding crock. Can you believe it? Gave up my roots ‘cause it’d be worth it. Well guess what?" He prowled forward with intent, gaze blazing, and seized Zack by the lapels of his shirt. "This vamp’s going back to his roots." As if for added effect, he neared his throat and pinned him against the wall. "Buckle your seat, Zangy. This ride’s ‘bout to get mighty bumpy." 

"Why settle, Spikey? You never went for second-best before." 

That voice. Where did that voice come from? Zack was withering so close to unconsciousness that he didn’t realize that Buffy had thrown her husband against the opposite wall until her arms encircled him to assist him to his feet. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest for the needed rest, but he knew well enough to follow. 

"Take Kelly and Rosie," she instructed lowly, indicating the closet she had left them in. "Get out of here now." 

Zack’s eyes shot open as a wave of awareness forced him to remain steadfast on his toes. "Are you out of your mind?!" he all but screeched. "I’m not leaving you alone with him! He’s—" 

"I can handle it." 

"Buffy, no—" 

From behind, Spike was beginning to sit up, still sporting vamp face. He rubbed the back of his neck tenderly and snarled at the scene before him. "Well, well," he drawled, rising to his feet. "Isn’t this a Hallmark moment? So sorry to interrupt, but I got me a whelp to kill." 

In a flash, the fight was back in Zack’s veins. Buffy nearly had to shove him at full strength to keep him from leaping at Spike in a fit of rage. "You fucking bastard!" he screamed. "Just wait until I get my hands on—"

"Fine, fine. First the whiner, then the whelp. And what is it you plan on doing to me, Zangy? Get your head bumped a thousand times ‘till I drain you dryer than the bleeding Sahara?" Spike shook his head sardonically. Then his eyes landed on the closet that the two were so obviously trying to protect, and his nostrils flared. "Fee-fi-foe-fum. I smell the blood of a ripe…young…girl." He turned to Buffy and waggled his eyebrows in a mocking rendition of the image she loved. The kindhearted individual behind his candor. As if Spike would ever look at her like that. "Come on, love. If you let your inhibitions go for just a second, I promise I’ll share the goodies. I’m sure good ole Porphy could use a quick pick-me-up." 

Buffy’s gaze hardened and she met her lover’s stare, pound for pound, refusing to flinch. Her voice was pure ice when she parted her lips to speak. "Zack, I don’t care where you go. Just get out of the hallway. Now." 

There was no arguing with that tone. He was gone the next second; burying himself in the closet with Kelly and Rosie and sparing them a quick, bloodied tearful hug. However, now was not the time for lofty confessions and apologies. 

Now was a time for prayer. 

Spike’s eyes had not left Buffy’s since she emerged into the hallway. He regarded her with a mixture of hatred and despair—nothing reflected of the man she knew. With a toothy grin, he took a step forward, mockingly similar to his characteristic mannerisms. 

But he was not hers. Not her Spike. Not even the Spike that had tried to kill her all those years ago. No. This demon was new. Completely new. Presented in its rawest form, away from any means of rationality. 

"So," he drawled in the tone that was supposed to offset her and make her believe the lie presented. The very same that did nothing but fuel her bloodlust. "’S down to just us, kitten?" 

"Just us, Spike," she agreed stonily. "Just how it ought to be." 

"Mmm…" He ran his tongue down the side of his fang. "I’d rather be fighting you, anyway." 

The Slayer flinched but did not rise to the bait. She had no trouble placing the words, regardless of how buried in the past they remained. There was no semblance of remembrance on her face once the initial action withered into nonbeing. Only the dry, heartbreaking recognition of what her calling might ask her to do. "Mutual." 

When Spike lunged, it somehow took her by surprise. As though she expected him to be all talk and no show. Despite all the badness that had spanned the course of their experience, she had subconsciously broadened herself passed the assumption that he willingly hurt her. And yet here he was—lashing out in a fit of fangs and fists. She felt him claw at her waist, felt the pointed end of his incisor snag a piece of flesh from her cheek, felt the leg worm around one of her ankles, and was on her back before she knew what hit her. 

"Now, now," he purred sadistically, cocking his head as he considered her, licking her blood off his lips. "Doesn’t this look familiar?" 

"Spike…" 

"Whatsa matter, pet? Can’t find it within yourself to pummel me? God knows you never seemed to hold back before." He ran a hand seductively down the front of his body. "Or have you deluded yourself into forgetting the bad touchy? Don’t see why. Looked just as you do now. Sprawled out in all sorts of…delicious…helpless ways. Just begging for it. Take it any way you can, don’t you? You know just how to get a bloke all…riled up." 

Buffy’s stomach turned and she wished briefly that she had the networking to conjure vomit. She didn’t know what was worse; being reminded of that night, or knowing how Spike would react if he knew what he was saying. For years, she had remained steadfast in the belief that no matter how much he had hurt her then; he had immeasurably hurt himself more. But now, seeing him look at her like that, seeing him… 

"Spike, you don’t know what you’re saying." 

He cocked a brow. "’S that right?" 

"Y-you…you love me. You…" She was backing up, still slithering on the floor, eyes never leaving his as he slowly advanced. "You wouldn’t…hurt us…"

"Hmmm. Someone sure thinks highly of herself." He used his advantage to deliver a swift kick to her side, reveling a tight, evil grin when she curled over. "Let’s examine the Slayer’s track record. Angel—one round with you was enough to scare the soul right outta him. That wanker Parker, who figured you only worth one go. Captain Cardboard, who ended up getting suck jobs from vamps ‘cause you couldn’t give him what he needed. And then, of course, yours truly. A neutered vamp who’d take it from anyone who was giving it out for free. Oh, and let’s not forget the little bathroom incident. You sure do like men who hurt you. And why shouldn’t you? That’s what made you such a tight little fuck—have all these kinks that you didn’t like to share with anyone. Well, sweetheart, this vamp’s not so neutered anymore. And he’s moved on to bigger, and better things. Really, what else is there to expect from your own lover nowadays?" 

That was it. The final, pivotal straw. Buffy was on her feet the next instant, soaring through the air and into his waiting arms, swinging, clawing, and slashing at anything she could get her hands on. Full vamp and Slayer strength in use. Her own human visage melted away, something she rarely allowed happen, and she pelted him mercilessly until he was the one on the floor. So lost in outrage, she didn’t even notice the scalding tears that poured without relent down her cheeks. And all the while, the thing that was Spike cackled. She beat him, and he laughed. 

"That’s it, Slayer," he scoffed, attempting and failing to sit up. "Lay it all on me. All on me." 

For whatever reason, that brought her to a halt. Buffy’s eyes cleared as she realized what she would have done had she not stopped herself. And Heaven help her, she wasn’t ready. She couldn’t. She couldn’t give him up now. Not like this. It had taken her months to realize that killing Angelus was the only way that Angel could be at peace; Spike was different. He was so different. What they had outshone any love she had ever known. He was her friend, her lover, her mate, her equal. And she wasn’t ready to concede that she had lost him forever. 

But if they continued like this, he might wind up dead before she could stop herself. 

"Oh," he cooed, propping himself on his elbows. "’S that it, pet? Come on. Where’s that fighting spirit? Dangerous, evil, soulless monster here. Don’t tell me you’re calling quits already." 

The Slayer shook her head, stepping back as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You’re not a monster, Spike." 

"Funny, kitten. Tell me another one." 

Again, only with more conviction. "You’re not a monster." 

"Okay…" He leapt to his feet, eyes blazing. "Getting old." 

Buffy let out a long, rumbled breath. "You’re not a monster." 

Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore. The smirk fell from Spike’s face and he was glaring at her, taking long steps forward until he was close enough to backhand her in earnest. "Not a sodding monster?" he snarled. "I’ll give you a monster, pet. I’ll—" 

The Slayer roared and shoved him back, twirling and delivering a fierce kick to his gut. "You’re not a monster." 

_"Shut up!"_

"Spike, you’re not a monster." 

Spike growled his fury and landed another whopping punch to her face, causing her to crash haphazardly against the wall. One of his rings caught on her skin and drew droplets of blood through the broken flesh. At that, his eyes wavered in conviction, and for the briefest moment, he appeared wrecked and panicked. 

Buffy immediately recognized the horror flashing behind his stewing gaze; he had delivered the same the night he tried to rape her. A surge of hope commanded her veins and she tackled it. It wasn’t too late; it couldn’t be too late. Not for him. Not for anyone. "You’re not a monster, baby," she whispered. "You’re not." 

The look he delivered her was heartbreaking, but gone the next instant. Without warning, the man she loved dissolved again, and the beast inhabiting his body was back. 

"You’re more daft than you look, sweetheart." 

The Slayer shook her head. "You’re not a monster." 

"Stop bloody saying that!" Then he was on her; tackling her to the floor and delivering whatever blows he could. A gnash to the face, a wild claw at the shoulder, a punch to the gut. Anything. And with every hit, every bruising turn, she only served to reaffirm her conviction. The pronouncement seemed to fuel him with more rage, but she knew better. She knew much better. 

However, he didn’t break. He refused to break. As the man and demon wrestled inwardly, he continued his outward onslaught. It wasn’t until a small shrill voice cut through the shouting and tears that the hits her body was accepting came to a fierce halt. 

"Uncle Spike, stop!" Rosie screamed, tearing out of her parent’s arms and running up to the blonde pair on the ground. "Stop it! You’re hurting Aunt Buffy!" 

Spike simply snarled and pulled his arm back. Much like he had earlier, he smashed the child with such impact that it sent her into the wall. And again like earlier, his face fell when he realized what he had done. 

However, this time, more of himself broke through. At the sight of tears streaming down Rosie’s face, the cold exterior dropped and he fell to the ground in self-actualization. "Oh God, Bit," he gasped, trying to both claw his way to and away from her at the same time. "Oh my God…" 

It was the most human he had appeared in hours, and everyone stopped. Everyone. Buffy, who was still wrangled beneath him. Kelly, who was behind her husband. Zack, who had been regarding him with a murderous gleam while trying to push his wife back into the closet. And Rosie, whose eyes welled with tears but stopped when she recognized the tenor in her uncle’s voice. 

"Uncle Spike?" she asked weakly. 

"God, Rosie," he gasped, prowling forward. His body language read predator; clearly contradicting everything that poured from his lips. "For God’s sakes, run away! Get away from me! DO IT!" 

Buffy tentatively reached to grasp his arm, rubbing reassuring circles through his shirt and against his skin. "Spike?" 

That was all it took to dissolve the façade of the man away. In a fury, the demon was back, twisting to catch her eyes before hitting her hard across the face once more. "Sorry to disappoint," he hissed. "Little lapse. Don’t worry, blossom. Won’t happen again." 

All movement resumed. Zack charged forward and collected his sobbing daughter in his arms. Buffy returned to struggling and screaming that her husband wasn’t a monster. Kelly merely sobbed and collapsed against the wall, holding Rosie to her breast. Seeing such delightful other distractions prompted the demon to finally relent his attack on his wife, and just as he was about to square off with his friend once more, an ethereal howl rang through the corridors on the side opposite the milieu. 

Buffy sat up and wiped her eyes. 

It was Oz. 

He had recovered. 

And he was prone to attack. 

There was a still beat—ironic for everything that suggested anything but stillness. All eyes were waiting; trained on the wolf to see what it would do. However, the greater shock came with the reaction to his attack. When Oz barked a meaningful howl and launched himself at Kelly and Zack, something changed within the shadow of the vampire. 

Something ferocious. Something protective. 

Something primal. His eyes blazed with an odd form of defensive guidance, and seeing his family in danger was all it took to provoke his action. In a fury of movement, Spike had launched himself at the mass of snarling fur, and battled him down the hallway to a point where none could see. None could follow. The only beats of progression were the sounds of inhuman screaming, crying, clawing, roaring, and finally stillness. 

No one noticed the look of peaceful revelation overwhelm the Slayer’s expression. The pensive sort of raw acceptance needed to boost such a status of high morale. Calmly, and deliberately, she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear and made her way down the hall, ignoring the voice within that forewarned her of the impending ugly sight her eyes were about to bear witness to. She was still sporting game face—something that took everyone, even Rosie, aback. It was so unlike her to embrace the recesses of her most intimate nature. 

In mild protest, Zack grabbed her arm as she passed them, halting her advance so that he could see her eyes. "What are you doing?" he demanded. 

She glanced down to him. "What I have to do." 

"Buffy—" 

"I did this to him…" she murmured self-consciously. "And I think I can bring him back out. I just need to…" 

There was a sudden dying yelp from where the battling pair had disappeared. A yelp and then a pitiful mourning call. It drew everyone in the hall to a dreaded standstill, and the color drained from Zack’s face. 

"Oh God…" 

The mourning call turned from little mewling cries into whispered whimpers, and Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. She disappeared into the shadows, ignoring the cries of protest amounting from behind. It didn’t matter what it was; she had to see. She had know before… 

The sight welcomed by her eyes nearly broke her heart. On the ground was a naked Oz, surrounded in blood, his throat torn out. His body was covered with splotchy purple bruises and lines of deep slashes. A claw mark aligned his cheek, and his head was facing hers, still eyes staring off at something inaccessible by anyone on a reachable plane. 

It was horrible. It was heart shattering. It made her stomach churn. 

But she wasn’t looking at Oz. 

Against the wall was Spike, his eyes trained still on the form of the werewolf, breathing deep as he failingly attempted to wan away tears. His shirt had been all but torn from his body, and similar slashes aligned his chest and the soft of his stomach. A long tear was bleeding down his chin, and his entire body was trembling. And he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t look away. He didn’t even register her presence. Didn’t think. Couldn’t… 

He was sobbing without the sobs. 

Buffy’s eyes clouded with tears. She refused to look at Oz. Refused to accept what she already knew. What she knew it meant. "Spike…" 

He turned at the sound of his name, eyes widening as he saw her. "Buffy…" he said softly. It was his voice. His voice. She couldn’t help but choke a sob at that, forcibly schooling herself to not run up to him and bury herself in his embrace. Her Slayer senses were screaming that he could revert to form any second, but her will wouldn’t believe it. 

Spike started crying in earnest when he saw the hesitation on her face, sinking pitifully against the wall. "Oh god oh god oh god…" he sobbed. "Buffy…baby…ohhh…god, pet. Get…get away…get away from me…it’s gonna come back, sweetheart, and I can’t…I can’t stop it…I can’t…get them away…protect them…and tell them I…" He glanced up once more, rivers of tears pouring down his cheeks. "I love you, Buffy. No matter…no matter what I say or…" He swallowed painfully. "Say or do…I love you so much…" 

"Spike…" She took several more steps forward, flinching inwardly when he recoiled. 

"Don’t pet, please," he begged. "Please. If I hurt you, I—" 

"Spike." Buffy knelt beside him and softly petted his gold mess of hair. "It’s all right. Just trust me." 

"Buf—" 

Before he could react—pull away, speak, or do anything to deny her, the Slayer had leaned forward over the mark in his throat and embedded her fangs in his skin. The reaction was immediate; Spike gasped his pleasure and keeled back, eyes closing as heavenly euphoria swept over every lasting nerve in his being. There was no sensation comparable to sensationalism. Nothing that he could seek, yearn for, or need more than what she was offering. The very essence of being. 

Buffy retracted her hold with a whimper of protest, licking the wound closed. She drew in a heady breath and nuzzled into the loose hold he had subconsciously offered. A natural inclination to what she had given him. When her mouth was at his ear, she tightened her grasp on him and murmured, "Mine." 

"Yours," he agreed with a gasp. 

They remained immobile for long seconds, clutching to each other with a fury of need. Hands drawing patterns on skin they knew so well. She knew it wasn’t over, knew that he wouldn’t reciprocate the rekindled claim until he felt he had permission, and no amount of reassurance from her lips would provide the granted leeway. 

There had to be something else. 

It took every lasting nerve of resilience to pull away. "Come with me," she whispered. 

"Baby—" 

"Don’t argue, William. Come with me." 

There was no denying her. Buffy helped him to his feet, her own body quaking under the trembles that were coursing through him. She wrapped an arm around his middle and steered him down the hall. Spike closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, willing to ignore the shouted questions that inevitably greeted them as they passed Zack and Kelly. He couldn’t look at them; couldn’t own up to what he had done to them. Not yet. He couldn’t… 

They were silent the next minute. Silent but following. Buffy must have said something to them. He could feel nothing but her. Not the clouding of his nonexistent soul. Not the guilt that seemed to command every free motion in his body. The remorse that clung to him, as palpable as the body wrapped in his arms. 

When they stopped walking, they were in the Great Hall. He knew for the scent rather than the sight. His entire body was trembling, and while he felt like screaming in objection, he refused to vocalize his protestations when Buffy carefully pulled away from him. 

He stood at the doorway, willing his eyes open. She was seated at the piano as he had been before he had lost control. Seated there, gaze locked with his. 

His heart caught in his throat. She was repaying him. The notion was overly touching; never had she made such a gesture. Despite all the love he felt behind her caresses, never had she put herself in the limelight of feeling like this. He felt he would shatter when the first notes touched the air. 

The piano sang effortlessly under her influence, and without provocation, he knew what she was doing. Soothing. The demon within was struggling against the innate need to surface, and yet the sound of her voice harmoniously quelled the brewing storm. She was using every string she had, and she was succeeding. 

Their eyes locked and remained locked. Her voice wavered a bit but refused to break. She drew in an unnecessary breath and continued. 

Buffy drew in another sharp breath and closed her eyes for just a second. It was then that she felt him move forward—when safely out of her peripheral view. Though the bench did not creak or shift with his weight, she knew when he took his seat next to her. Knew even though he tacitly refused to touch her. Knew, more than just the scent or the feel, but rather because of the link they shared. The link that refused to die, even with grief and betrayal. At that, a hand was at her back. Softly rubbing. Silently pleading. She refused to open her eyes. 

The Slayer gasped sharply as his fangs pierced the mark in her neck, tongue in mid-process of rolling out the last syllable of her song. The same that would be lost forever, as she had accomplished what she hoped to. She was vaguely aware of Kelly’s sharp intake of breath and her fleeting wish of protestation, but knew well enough that Zack would prevent her from intervening. That Zack would know the vampire wasn’t attacking—rather asserting. 

Here. In front of everyone. A symbolic affirmation of everything she once denied. 

And then it hit: the waves, the onslaught. An incursion of feeling, the same only shared through the welcoming bond of vampiric claims. She felt everything, and it tore her heart in two. The struggle, the hurt, the heartache, the suffering, the feeling of losing everything, the battle with his most natural self, the remorse, the self-loathing, the hatred, the anger, the fear, the terror, the desperation, the tears, the blood, the screams, the sobs, the devastation, the pain. The pain. So much pain. 

And she broke all over again; knowing what he felt was what she caused. Not simply by kissing Zack—by doubting him at all. By thinking him capable of doing what she accused him of doing after he had proved himself time and time again. She felt his sorrowed outrage as well as despair that anyone—least of all her—could ever question his complete and utter devotion to her. A heart torn in too many directions, prompted only because she allowed her eyes to become hazed with jealous qualm. 

Spike didn’t take too much from her. Even though it was near impossible to drain a vampire, he was always extra cautious when they brought their fangs into play. Though it was a common part of the vampire lifemate process—especially after the initial claim was made—he never drank from her. His fangs would penetrate her skin, but nothing more. As if she was delicate. As if she was still human. 

With the same measure of caution, Spike withdrew his fangs from her throat and lapped the wound closed. "Mine," he murmured into her hair. 

Buffy’s arms instinctively encircled his neck and she buried her face into his shoulder. There was no way they could get close enough. "Yours," she agreed. "Always." 

That was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. The trembling in Spike’s body intensified as reality crashed around him, and he burst into tears. The arms around her constricted, pulling her to him even as she knew he felt he should be pushing her away. Away from something as dark as he. Away from something as dangerous. "God!" he sobbed, shaking his head against her. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…I never…I never meant to hurt you." He glanced up and caught a glance of the Morrises lingering still in the doorway, watching him with concern. "I…Oh God…God, kill me. Please. I can’t…" He began convulsing again, unable to maintain a stream of conscious. "Oz, I—" 

"Shhh," Buffy whispered reassuringly. She couldn’t let herself think of Oz. Not now. Not when she had just gotten him back. Her senses were fueled on selfishness, and she refused to let herself look that far ahead. "It’s all right." 

"No. I…" He shook his head. "Willow. Oh God, how am I gonna—" 

"You saved us," Kelly offered meekly from the doorway, her own eyes blurring with tears at his distress. It was very clear that she was fighting the innate desire to cross the floor and assist the Slayer in her quest to calm him. "He…he was going to rip us apart, Spike. And you—" 

"GOD!" Spike cried out again in pain. "Kelly. I…you…Rosie…I…" He shook his head against his mate; only vaguely aware of the soothing caresses she was giving his brow. The hand that persistently swept through platinum locks as he dampened her shirt with his unnaturally warm tears. "Zack…I…oh god, I almost…I could have…" 

"You didn’t," Zack said, his voice low but sincere. It was a hard trench for a man to cross. 

"No…" 

"Uncle Spike?" 

It was the first that Rosie had allowed herself to hope that he was better, and the sound of her voice served to push him over that final threshold. In an instant, he had bolted from Buffy’s embrace and was running through the door, unable to take anything for another second. 

Kelly glanced to the Slayer worriedly. "Is he going to be…" 

"He’s…" Buffy shook her head, wiping her eyes free of her own tears. For the millionth time, her mind flashed to the night that everyone had tried to eradicate from existence. She had kicked him off her in a fury of hurt and astonishment, violated beyond all principle, but she immediately knew by meeting his horrified gaze that he had hurt himself much worse than he had hurt her. Whatever penance he sought now was for his own misgivings; the punishment he felt he needed—not what those he had wronged demanded of him. 

When Spike hurt someone he loves, he always hurts himself more. 

Buffy didn’t know what to tell Kelly. She didn’t know what to tell herself. Spike had killed. Spike had tried to murder his family—he had taunted all of them with visions of the past and had tasted more of his share of their blood. And he would punish himself accordingly. 

The last time, he sought out a soul. 

She didn’t want to think about what he would do now.

*~*~*

"Oh, this is a mess," Lorne said, hanging his head as he regarded the three people standing in front of him. "Why on earth didn’t you people come to me in the first place?" 

"Sheer stupidity?" Zack ventured weakly. 

Kelly hazarded a glance in his direction. They hadn’t spoken since the incident in the hallway. The reaffirmation of his faith and love was in her possession, but he had not made reference to it. Nearly an hour had passed since Spike left them in the Great Hall, and after failingly attempting to locate him using Buffy’s connection, they had given Rosie to Dawn so that their daughter might get some sleep while they tried to get some questions answered. 

The Slayer had been mildly disconcerted when she couldn’t locate her husband, worried that perhaps he had done something extreme in the midst of his grief. Immediately upon seeing her, Lorne had reassured that her connection to him was simply muddled because of the magic protecting the castle—magic strong enough to compete with bonds signed and constructed of the oldest order known to man. It was simply a demonstration of how powerful Hogwarts was as a school all in itself. 

The explanation relieved her, but her trepidation did not waver. She would not be satisfied until she found him. 

"Cripes, sweetheart, you’re a mess," the Host informed Zack, handing him a box of wet-wipes. "Did you get hit with a two by four?" 

"No, just Spike." 

"After he lost his marbles?" 

"That was my fault," Buffy murmured, turning away again. 

"No, it was our fault," Zack corrected. He ignored the pained look that commanded his wife’s expression. They hadn’t gotten a chance to discuss what had happened to prompt Spike’s sudden turn. He was feeling too horrible about a number of things to get around to that right now. At the moment, all he wanted was to find his friend and make sure he was all right. That he wasn’t… 

And there was Oz. Lying still in the hallway. Lying in wait. None had been able to summon the courage to go back to him just yet. 

"Sugar," Lorne said to Buffy, steering her to the side. "I get you’re worried, and your concern is genuine. Listen, pumpkin, I’ve never seen kids as crazy-in-love as you and your hunka peroxide manwhich. Well…" He glanced to Zack and Kelly, who shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "I guess I’ll call it a tie. Neck-in-neck, if you don’t mind the pun. Your William’s not so great under the pressure, and right now, he’s feeling it in waves. If it were anyone else, I’d say give the boy some time. But it’s not anyone else—it’s him. And he needs you. He needs you bad before he does something colossally stupid. So here. Do me a favor. Sing a couple verses of ‘Love Me Tender’ and I’ll be able to point you in the right direction." 

Buffy nodded enthusiastically, not questioning or contesting the choice of song. She knew well in advance that the Host would direct her no matter what she sang, but she wasn’t about to deny him a request. If anything, he likely provided the tune for her inability to think straight as of the current. _"Love me tender,"_ she began. _"Love me sweet. Never let me go. You have made my life complete, and I love you so."_

"Perfection, doll," Lorne said with a nod. "He’s in the dungeon. He’s shackled himself up to prevent—" 

There was no need for clarification. The Slayer caught him in a grateful bear hug and was gone the next minute. 

The Host sighed and turned to the others, shaking his head. "I’m never going to forgive you for letting things get so wackaloons crazy around here," he scolded. 

"Sorry," Kelly murmured. 

"Not you, sweetheart. Your dolt of a husband." Lorne stepped forward seriously. "Next time you feel like pointing fingers, please consult your friendly neighborhood psychic. I could have had this cleared up in seconds." 

"I probably wouldn’t have listened to you," Zack murmured, voice laced with self-disgust. "You being a demon, and me being on a big anti-demon kick." 

"Well, then you could’ve asked CC. Or phoned up Johnny Smith. Didn’t I hear a rumor that you helped him defeat some politician in Maine a few years ago?" Lorne shook his head. "Just remember, sugarbritches; when you’re constantly surrounded with supernatural beings, it might be to your benefit to actually use them when need be. In the meantime, I believe you two lovebirds have a lot of talking to do." 

"We do," Zack agreed. He squeezed Kelly’s hand with empty assurance, though he didn’t know whom he was trying to soothe. "I just wish I knew where to begin." 

*~*~*

The dungeon was very stereotypical. Dark, damp, and covered with an array of cobwebs. With every step she took, the Slayer shivered a bit more, wallowing in self-consciousness. There were no windows, and while she remained a vampire that was practically invulnerable to any opponent, the childhood fear of spiders had never quite subsided. 

It seemed funny after everything they had faced. Humorlessly funny. She wished she could laugh. 

Finding Spike wasn’t as difficult as it could have been. He was resting against the furthest wall, wrists bound in iron shackles. The scent of his tears polluted the stale air, and her heart ripped all over again. In any other context, she would accuse him of being overly dramatic, but she knew his concerns were genuine. She knew, because she shared them. 

And yet she couldn’t bear the thought of being away. 

Stopping ten feet away, Buffy’s hands wheedled into her front pockets, and she rocked lightly on the heels of her shoes. "Hey." 

"Buffy." Such emotion with the simple utterance of her name. "Go upstairs, love." 

"I don’t want to."

"I’m…" He hissed out a long breath, banging the back of his head against the wall with emphasis. He was visibly struggling with himself to keep from crying again. "I don’t know if I’m safe. I…can’t…I…" 

Defiantly, the Slayer covered the steps between them and situated herself on the floor. "Please," she pleaded softly. "Don’t make me go away." 

"Baby—" 

"I love you. I’ve…I’ve been so…" She shook her head as her own emotions got the better of her. "We have so much to cover, Spike. So much to talk about. So much to…to heal." Her hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "And it’s me, honey. It’s not you. I need to…I need to…I need to heal us. I need to repair the damage I did. So much…" She broke off with a choked sob—for the briefest minute; not knowing who it belonged to. "I love you so much, and I…I nearly fucked everything up forever. I just…I don’t wanna think about it. I can’t think about. Not tonight. Please, not tonight. I…" 

"Buffy…" 

"I’ve spent one night away from you, Spike. And that was the longest night of my life. Please don’t make me go through it again. I know I deserve it. I know…" 

That was it. The last and final straw. With a rumble of concession, he grabbed her arm and tugged her possessively into his embrace. It was only when she was pressed into his side, arms about his waist and head resting on his chest that she finally relaxed. The tears leaking from her eyes dampened his shirt as he had hers only an hour earlier, but he didn’t care. 

Neither cared. They couldn’t afford to care. Not tonight. Not when they were in each other’s arms once again after allowing an eternity to pass. 

Neither cared tonight, because they knew they would have to care plenty come the morrow. But for now, they had the moment. They had each other. They had something regained after so much hurt. 

"I love you, Buffy—" 

"Love you." 

"—so bloody much." 

"Ditto." 

And the moment was all that mattered. 

*~*~*

"Ow!" Zack groaned as Kelly tenderly helped him sit on the bed. The adrenalin that had kept him going just a few short minutes before was now subsiding with the fact that he felt things might begin to come back to normal. Either way, he knew that his family would be safe tonight. 

"You’re hurt," Kelly said stating the obvious. She bit her lip and looked him over. 

"Nah," Zack said with a flip of his hand. "Just a little sore." His bloody body didn’t support his claim. Though most had dried, some wounds were so deep that they remained oozing forth. 

Kelly began fumbling around the room looking for any such product that would be useful in the treatment of her husband. After searching the bathroom to no avail, she opened up her suitcase and began to dig for her travel first-aid kit. "You would think that in a place like this, you would keep a Band-aid on hand." 

"Kel. Don’t worry. I’m fine."

"You’re bleeding!" She looked up with tears in her eyes. Her voice was cracking with emotion. "You’re hurt. I did this." She wiped her tears as she searched again for the kit she always packed as a mommy and a nurse. She had expected Zack or Rosie to get a little scrap, but she never would have fathomed the current state they were in. "Bugger," She cried in frustration as she threw the suitcase down, spilling all the contents onto the floor. 

"Sweetheart," Zack said soothingly. He then tried to get up from his sitting position, but fell back with a groan when he was only halfway. 

"Zack, are you okay?" 

"Just come here and I think I will be," He said flashing her a pain filled smile as he clenched his side. 

Kelly was instantly by his side and urging him to lay back. "Just lay down, honey." She said as pulled off his shoes. 

"No," he grunted. He was in pain, but he had things to say. "I’m not going to until we talk. We probably won’t come close to saying all that needs to be, but… but I think we should start. Besides, you’re hurt too." He yanked her down onto the bed and reached for Lorne’s wet-wipes. He opened the package and gently swiped one across her soiled face. She flinched as he began to clean the cut on her temple, but her eyes never left his. Slowly he bent over in search of her lips. 

"Shit," he grumbled as he quickly caught himself. 

"Zack? I understand if you don’t think we’re ready for that yet. We are going to have to start over and—" 

"Kelly," he grounded out through clenched teeth. "No. No no no. My ribs are broken." 

"Oh God!" She gasped. "Look at me. Selfish me again thinking of nobody but myself." 

Her ramblings helped to ease his pain. He closed his eyes and released a sigh as a smile came to his lips. "Talk," he sighed. "I love your voice." 

"Even when I’m selfish? I doubt." 

"Especially then. Then… then I know you’re thinking of the most important person in my life," he said slowly as he edged himself up against the headboard. 

"Zack," Kelly said bashfully. "Let me help you."

His eyes were closed with concentration as he shook in head. "Talk," he pleaded. 

"I’m sorry." 

"No. Happy talk. Bad in a minute. Happy now." 

"OK… I love you. And… I really loved the minstrel show. That and the Sister’s number." 

Zack held his breath until he was fully supported by the wood behind him. Then, as he let his head fall back against the wall, he released a breath. It began as a rumble deep inside and rippled out as a loud booming laugh. 

"Zack?" Kelly said uncertain of whether it was truly a chuckle or sob. She crawled up the bed to his side. 

Tears came down his face as he muttered, "Sister…sister." 

"Honey," Kelly quietly berated. She saw the pain that the memories evoked on all the different levels. 

He sang shakily, "Lord help the mister that comes between me and my sister. And L…Lord help the sister… that comes between me and my man." He couldn’t contain it anymore as he collapsed against his wife’s shoulder and the sobs broke free of his tight chest. 

"Zack, hon," she said gently rubbing his thigh as she let her own tears come down once more. 

"I’m s-so-sorry—" 

"Hush," she whispered leaning up and kissing his trembling lips. 

"Mmmm," he groaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure. His wife pulled away with a giggle. It was the best moment in his entire day to hear the sound of her happiness. 

"Zack—" 

"Kiss me. Kiss me again before we say something thought provoking." 

"What?" Kelly laughed. 

"Before it gets painful." 

She did. This time it was a longer deeper embrace. Moments passed before she pulled away breathless and propped her head up against the wall. 

"The sheets are a mess," Kelly muttered as she stared down ashamedly at the bloodied splotches. 

"We’re a bloody mess!" Zack chuckled at his Spike pun before clenching his side. Then, in a moment of decisiveness the blond man got off the bed and walked to the center of the room where the contents of the spilled suitcase were scattered. "Ugh!" he growled as he bent down to pick up the first-aid kit that was now in plain view. He then tossed it at his wife. "Here. Now you can nurse me up." 

"Gladly," she replied with a smile. 

"Sod it all," he grumbled as he flopped himself down on the bed. "Reason number twenty-five why it’s good to be a vamp: You can’t get beat up as easily." 

"Reason number twenty-six," Kelly added as she got up limped to the bathroom for wet rags. "If you do get beat up, it doesn’t hurt as bad." 

"Right. Kelly, how bad are you hurt?" Zack asked eyes filling with panic. 

"I’m fine. Just bruises and a couple cuts. Twisted ankle, but no broken bones. And before you ask for the millionth time, Rosie only has bumps and bruises. A small cut on her head, but nothing requiring stitches." 

"The baby?" Zack said acknowledging his child for the first real time. 

Kelly hesitated slightly before answering honestly. "I don’t know," She rubbed her belly gingerly. "I haven’t experienced any pain, but I don’t know if I lost it." She came back to her husband’s embrace. 

"I’m sorry," he muttered into her hair. "This is all my fault. I should have trusted you." 

"You had every right not to believe me." 

"Reason twenty-seven: you can sense when your lover is faithful to cut down on pesky blame problems," Zack said with a sheepish smile. 

"Reason number fourteen why not to be a vampire: Extra jealously in relationships and possessiveness." 

"Reason twenty-eight: I’m already extra jealous and possessive." 

Both laughed for a moment before Kelly looked at him with pain-filled eyes. "You kissed her? You really did that to get back at me?" 

"End of fun time, huh?" Zack said in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation light-hearted. When he saw that she was not going to follow, he sighed and nodded. 

"Spike saw it? That’s what… what he saw?" 

"Yeah," Zack said looking away in shame. "We kissed. Twice. No more. We were just hurt and seeking—" 

"No need for explanations or apologies." She reached up to lightly run her fingers in his hair. "Don’t get me wrong. Jealous as hell. But, I know why you did it. You had… have every right to get back at me for what I did—" 

"Kelly," Zack growled. He hated her self-accusation because he knew how badly it hurt to blame yourself. He was beginning to understand the reason that she never wanted to talk about this in the past. The disgust that went along with betraying the one you loved more than anything in this world, except perhaps the ones you create together. 

"It’s kind of funny," Kelly said with bitter misery. She pulled away slightly as she continued. "They always warned that Zack Morris was a trouble-maker. A heart breaker. Who didn’t warn me before we got married? Even your own parents gave me a speech." 

"They did?" Zack said arching a brow. He smirked as he squeezed the arm he had around her shoulder slightly. 

"Yeah," she smiled. "I was always sweet and innocent Kelly Kapowski. But, I’m a whore. Always have been." 

"Kel—" 

"No. Let me say this. You were always the faithful one. Yeah, there was the nurse, but she didn’t count. Other girls were only in your schemes to help me. Penny Belding. That Russian chick in Vegas." 

"You remember?" 

"Penny Belding because that was funny with Screech in a blond wig. That Russian because I was pissed." 

"Still, I don’t see ‘whore’ when I look at you." 

"Jeff, Jeremiah, Slater in high school, Screech crush, and…Slater. Hello!" 

"Kelly," he said wiping a tear from her eye. "Slater and Screech in high school didn’t amount to anything. And we weren’t together then. Same with Lasky; we weren’t dating. Jeff, well he developed and you couldn’t control it. I knew you loved me, but we were young and needed time to explore. Slater… that one I think I could grip better if you remembered what happened." 

"But I can’t." She wept. "’Cause I’m a whore!" 

"No," Zack said laughing in spite of himself. "If anything, because you’re a really bad drunk." 

"Can you ever forgive me?" The look in her eyes dealt a sharper blow than any of Spike’s kicks and punches. 

He swallowed hard. "Yes." He blinked the tears back and swallowed again. "I think I just did." He looked her in the eyes as his own began to blur. "I will always forgive you, darling. But, it really comes down to whether we can forgive ourselves." 

They were silent as they looked into each other’s eyes. They pleaded for the other to forgive themselves for the past. Zack’s was too fresh and he wasn’t prepared. Kelly’s was too strong and uncertain. She didn’t feel ready to trust herself, let alone forgive. 

"I can’t," Kelly whimpered as Zack cocooned her in his arms. "N-n-never." 

"Ssh." Zack said bringing a finger to his lips. "That’s enough talk for tonight." 

The next few minutes were spent removing Zack’s clothes and tending to his wounds. She bound his ribs and made sure that all his open cuts were properly tended to. Zack made sure that Kelly’s wounds were also treated before he allowed her to turn off the lights and crawl under the blanket next to him. 

"Is Pigtails asleep?" Zack asked. He was in unbearable pain at the sheer thought of getting up, but for Rosie he would walk through fire. 

"Yup," Kelly sighed as she wiggled close. She sighed as she finally found a pleasant position. They were in too much pain to hold one another tonight. She was curled up facing him while he stared at the blank ceiling in the dark. "Reason number twenty-nine: those love bites. Looks like it’s really pleasurable." 

"Wish it felt that good when you bite me," Zack said pouting his lips. 

Several comfortable minutes of silence followed before Kelly asked, "Do you think we’ll be OK?" 

"Sure. Once the bones heal and we get out of here, I think that we’ll be just fine." The mischievous grin on his face spoke louder that his words. 

"Zack," Kelly playfully whined. "I mean, our marriage. Our life." 

Zack sighed as the grin slowly faded into seriousness. "Yeah. We have some bumpies, but we’ll make it. Come what may." 

"I love you, Zachary Morris." 

"Reason number thirty: Forever." 

"Forever?" Kelly asked in desire for elaboration. 

"Forever to love each other and forever to forgive ourselves." 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly was really into _The Shining_ when she wrote this.

"Spike?" 

A beat of hesitation and the subconscious tightening of his arms around her. "Yeah?" 

"You asleep?" 

There was a poignant pause and he chuckled into her hair in spite of himself. "Yeah," he answered. "I’ve had all my responses auto-programmed. Another pesky vamp advantage. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it." 

"Shut up. I was being coy." 

"So I figured." 

"Are you calling me predictable?" 

"Love, trust me: you are anything but." 

That barb hit home, whether or not such was his intention. At this point, she figured all remarks to be on a fifty/fifty chance-basis of meaning exactly what was said. Buffy sighed into his throat and tightened her arms around his middle. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "About that. So sorry…I…I was so sure that you…that you had…" 

"I would never," he insisted vehemently, some of the old resentment creeping into his tone, despite how little he felt it was owed. "Never, Buffy. There’s…there’s no one else for me. Never could be. Not with what we…God, how could you even—" 

"I don’t know," she replied tearfully. "It seems so…so stupid now. I wish I could say that I should’ve trusted you, but even that seems too far beyond what I should have done. Like trust isn’t enough. That I just should’ve known, regardless of trust. And I do trust you, Spike. I trust you not to…more than anyone. I trust you not to hurt me." 

Spike inhaled deeply at that, a familiar pain grasping his heart as his thumb traced the cut in her cheek. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "And look where that got you." 

"That wasn’t your fault." 

"Buffy—" 

"So much has…has happened. And it would be easy to point fingers. But I should’ve…should’ve realized that…" Buffy emitted a long breath and reluctantly pulled herself away from his embrace so that she could see his eyes. "Giles has taught me a lot about vampires. About what they—what we—have, power wise. Both the physical and supernatural…and I knew, I guess. I knew on some level that if I hurt you like I thought you had hurt me, that your…that you would…react the way you did. Because of the claim. And yet it never occurred to me that I would have done the same had you actually been guilty. That my demon would’ve gone mental had you…" Buffy glanced down, running her nails gently over his skin. "I’ve never accepted it, Spike. What I am. What I was turned into. Never. I’ve known that I’m a vampire, but I’ve never accepted it. Even with the entire Porphyria incident…it just…I guess I thought I was above it. But I’m not. I’m not. And I’m so sorry." Her face began to crumple as emotion got the better of her, and tears started rolling trenches down her cheeks. "I’m so sorry for doing this to you, Spike. I’m sorry for not…for not treating you like you…like you deserve to be treated. I wanted to be above it. I wanted to be above it so badly. And I nearly destroyed everything." 

In an instant, her husband had tugged her back into his arms, forcing her head to find purchase at his shoulder as he cooed and shushed and rocked her to stillness. Spike closed his eyes and inhaled again, willing the world to rip this away from him. It all seemed too good to be true. That she would crawl to him in penance without having to ask it of her. That she would recognize her fault without him needing to point it out. That she would know how she wronged him without requiring outside assistance. That she would know… 

"Shhhh," he murmured softly, his heart knotting when he felt her shake her dampened face against him in denial. "You haven’t lived with this like I have. When you were turned, you went right from being a warm body with a soul to a cold one. You’re little incursion with Porphy was the reality of what you are. But baby, you’ve never really been a vampire. Porphy was the closest you’ve ever come, and will ever come. And you were only her for two weeks. A blink in the greater scheme of things. And I did my damndest to make you forget it ever happened. We all did. We tried to make you human." 

"But that’s not fair, Spike. Don’t you get it? I’m not human. I chose to be not human. And I’m with you. I’d rather be…here, like this…with you than…" 

He smiled softly at her offering, but placed a finger over her lips to shush her. "I appreciate the sentiment, kitten," he told her. "But don’t say things you don’t mean." 

She met his eyes; all possible lines of tease abandoning her face. The countenance for this had to be serious, or he would never accept it. "I won’t lie to you," she said. "Becoming a vampire was probably the scariest thing that ever happened to me. For years, I’d thrived on this…this fear that if the change was ever forced upon me, the first thing I’d do would be to stake myself." When his mouth opened in protest, she covered it quickly, knowing it advance what he was going to say. "You see, in my fantasy I was always in charge. Always had a soul. And then it happened. Poof. Vampy Buffy. And it…it terrified me. I remember the first morning…waking up with you…I think if you hadn’t been there, I would’ve done something drastic. You’ve always tied me to this plane, Spike. You’ve always—"

"That wasn’t me," he grumbled in protest. "That was nancy-boy William." 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed obligatorily. "Oh, give it up, already. It was you. It’s always you. And it’s been you…step-by-step, through thick and thin…every day. Trying to make me forget what I am. Trying to make me happy. And I was so oblivious to it. You know why?" 

He mumbled something unintelligible, but she knew him well enough to translate that into ‘continue.’ 

"Because it worked." Buffy leaned in and kissed him, unable to stop herself. "You make me so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been…ever. It took dying to have a normal life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’d rather be a vampire and have what we have than be human and have nothing at all." 

Spike’s eyes blurred as he studied her, and he knew it was true. He knew it. Just as he knew that she meant everything she had said about trusting him. About being wrong in her horribly offensive assumption. About everything. And before he could stop himself, he had pulled her down for another passionate kiss. Longer this time, tasting and nibbling at flesh he knew so well. The same he could never tire of. Not if they lived to see the end of time. His hands searched her body, pulling and caressing, unable to get enough. He had thought to never have this again. 

Because he didn’t deserve it. 

He forced himself to pull away, resting his forehead against hers as he collected his unneeded breath. "Buffy," he sniveled softly. "I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t…every time I close my eyes, I see…I see what I could’ve done. I could’ve—" 

"But you didn’t." 

"I wanted to! God, I’ve never felt anything like that. Like I could…rip you apart and not…" He whimpered inarticulately against her. "And not just you, kitten. When I…I think about what I—"

"It wasn’t your fault, Spike. It…it wasn’t even you." 

He choked a sob, shaking his head in vehement protest. "How can you say that? I have no ‘lack-of-soul’ diddly to blame it on. This it’s different. Different from you not being Porphy. Different from me not being William. That was me, Buffy. That was my demon. That was what’s inside me all the time. The thing I can’t ever get rid of. That was the true face of what I really am." He was crying in earnest now, refusing to meet her imploring eyes. "What I’ve always been. And there’s no soul to… That’s the thing you claim to love. And it’s there all the time. It—" 

"No." 

"Buffy—" 

"That was a monster, Spike. And you’re not a monster." 

_I know I’m a monster…_

_You’re not a monster, Spike._

_…but you treat me like a man._

"Vampire, love. Soulless one at that. Doesn’t matter how much you treat me like a man. I’m always gonna be a monster." 

"You’re not." 

"You would’ve said differently a few years ago." 

She glanced down at that. Briefly. "I’ve grown up since then. I overcame what was bothering me. It was never your problem…it was mine. It was always mine. I just tried to make it yours. That was my fault." She sighed and kissed him again. "Will you trust me, baby? Please? I’ve lived with you for years…I’ve known you for what seems like forever…even when you were at your evilest, you were never like that. You could always help yourself. That…that thing couldn’t. It wasn’t you." 

Spike stifled another sob, shaking his head. "It was. It—" 

Buffy grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "I know monsters, Spike. I fight them every day. I have since I was fifteen. That might’ve been what lives in you, but you’re not a monster. You’re a man with a demon inside, not the other way around. I don’t care what the history books say. What the Watcher’s Council says. You’re a good man, William. You are. You have more life, love, and goodness in you than most people I know. Most humans. The vampire part is just what you are, not who you are. And what happened to you…that was…that was me. That was me monopolizing our link. If anything, it was a part of my demon as well." 

He looked at her, aghast. "No—" 

"Don’t argue." 

"Villainous minx." 

"Like you’d have it any other way." 

"I’ll argue if I bloody well want to." 

"Well, I’ll just shoot down your argument." 

He conceded a weak grin. "Seem to be good at that." Their lips met again, almost shyly. Reserved. Tasting with benefit. Allowing there to exist that blessed leeway of simplistic pleasure without the pain. His thumb caressed her cheek subconsciously, and they shared a sigh when they finally parted. Buffy closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest once more, resuming her position curled faithfully at his side with arms entangled around his body. 

"We’re mucked up," he decided after a few minutes of companionable silence.

"But at least we’re mucked up together." 

"You forgive me? You…you really forgive me?" The words came easy enough, though there was no denying the raw astonishment in his tone. 

"Always." She propped her chin at his chest after whispering a kiss through the cotton of his shirt. "Do you forgive me?" 

"Of course." 

"No…for kissing Zack." 

A small growl rumbled through his lips at the memory and his hold on her tightened. There was fluster of anger, a rage of seething jealousy, and the ever-burning desire to rip his chum’s heart out before munching on it merrily. For the briefest flicker of a second, he feared losing control all over again. 

But it passed. Somehow, it passed. 

"It killed me." He didn’t even realize he had spoken until he felt the wet of her rekindled tears tickle his skin. 

"I know. I’m so sorry." 

"I just…seeing you…and him….I’ve never trusted anyone like the two of you." 

"And we fucked it up." 

"No. It wasn’t just you. It was everything." Spike closed his eyes with some measure of effort and rested his head against the wall. "I get why he would…and yeah, I even get why you would. But god, pet…I don’t think anything has ever hurt that much. And trust me, I’ve been through a lot." 

At that, she couldn’t suppress a snicker. "Dated Dru." 

"Sod Dru. She was nothing compared to dealing with Harmony." 

"Got and lost your soul." 

"Married you." 

"Okay, I deserve that, but ouch all the same." 

He smiled weakly, letting her know without words that he hadn’t meant it like that. "Sometimes I think the hardest thing I’ve ever done is love you," he whispered. "And other times it feels just…just so easy that it strikes me as bloody amazing that it took me as long as it did." 

Buffy’s eyes warmed. "Ditto." They looked at each other for a long minute before her sigh tickled his skin. "So do you forgive me?" 

"Do I forgive you? For practically ripping my heart out? For making me bugger-all-out insane? For…" He trailed off when her face fell, and smiled in turn. "’ll always forgive you, Buffy. No matter. It’s a bloody weakness of mine. I can’t live without you, so you’ll always be forgiven. No matter how much it hurts." 

"I don’t want you to forgive me because—" 

"You’ll always be my choice, kitten. No matter what. Wishing it otherwise will not make it so." 

"So…" She trailed off hesitantly, biting her lip. "So we’re okay?" 

Spike sighed into her hair and thought for a minute. "I don’t know," he murmured. "I don’…I love you, I know that. I know why you did what you did. And I trust you. And I forgive you. But I don’t know if we’ll ever be okay. I don’t know if we ever were to begin with." 

There was nothing to do but nod at that. It was a foolish estimation to think they could solve all their problems with one conversation, especially tonight. Tonight when everything was fresh to the touch. They hadn’t even discussed the chip or Oz. They hadn’t discussed where there was to go from here. 

"And Zack?" 

"Mmm, what about him?" 

"Do you forgive him, too?" 

There was a lengthy pause. "Yeah," Spike replied hoarsely. "’Cause he didn’t mean it. And I know it. Whatever was said against me was more against Kelly. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t smart, but in the end, I know enough to recognize what’s what. God, kitten, all I want it’s to get back to normal. Whatever that is." 

"Me, too," she agreed, snuggling closer. 

"We have a buggering long way to go." 

"Maybe. Maybe not." Buffy looked up and kissed him again. Reassurance. Fidelity. Trust. Love. Everything. "I love you, Spike. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you." 

He couldn’t help but spare a grin at that. Those words got him with every utterance. "I love you," he agreed. "So much I can barely keep still. And that’s not even enough. It’s always growing, pet. More’n’more every day." 

The Slayer’s eyes filled with tears once more as she reclined for the last time. "Then maybe we don’t have that long of a way to go," she speculated. "Maybe it’s just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other." 

"Maybe." He sighed and kissed her brow. "Maybe we’re there and we don’t even know it."

"Maybe." 

More silence.

"Spike?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You really think we’ll never be okay?" 

He grinned and considered her. "Oh," he said speculatively. "I don’t know ‘bout that. Never’s a bloody long time, pet. We’ll be okay. We will." He ran a hand down her arm. "Maybe we are already." 

A low murmur rumbled through her throat. "Yeah," she agreed. "Maybe." 

Maybe. There were too many maybes to consider. Perhaps, then, it was time to sit down and review them all. 

Perhaps. Maybe. Same thing. 

It needed to be done. They needed to get this behind them. They needed the normalcy they so craved. They needed it more than anything comprehensible to mankind. 

Because then they would be okay. 

But only then. 

Spike trembled when he felt her doze off against him, smiled beside himself and gently kissed her brow. Truth there. Truth and justice. 

Everything he couldn’t have. Everything he had soiled forever. Despite what she said, despite what he reassured, one way or another, all good things had to come to an end. 

And he knew it. 

*~*~*

A pitiful wail rang through the upper chambers of Hogwarts’ forbidden areas—the same that had been under siege since the arrival of the new evils. From their vantage point on the bed, Darla and Angelus exchanged a quick glance, rolled their eyes, and fought to their feet. 

"Just when I thought we might get some peace and quiet around here," Angelus grumbled, shimmying into his pants. 

Darla’s eyes narrowed. "The silence bothers," she argued, slipping a shirt over her head. "I don’t trust it to have not ruined the extent of all our planning. Spike was wailing and cursing like mad three hours ago. And now there’s silence." 

"Maybe he’s killed them," Angelus speculated. "The dead don’t tend to have much room to voice argument…unless they’re like yours truly." 

She pursed her lips in thought, but shook her head just the same. "No…it’s different now. I can’t feel his demon raging anymore." 

"Then perhaps he snapped out of it and is mourning what he—"

"Angelus, you’re not listening to me. He’s at peace. Content. He’s…" She made a face of disgust. "God, I think he’s purring. Tell me you can’t feel that." 

He shrugged, fastening his belt indifferently. "Love, I’ve lived with them…around them…for years now. Kinda got accustomed to tuning it out when I felt Spike begin to react to something. Knowing when he was in the mood just reached all sorts of levels of disgust." 

"Never seemed to bother you before." 

"It was with Dru before," Angelus observed. "It was…natural. Now he’s fucking the Slayer, and he has no gypsy curse to blame it on." 

"Are you sure your actions were out of disgust and not jealousy?" 

He grinned at that and grasped her wrist, pulling her to him with the same measure of truth that they had known for a hundred and fifty years. "Oh, that’s cute, really," he teased mockingly. "But I think I just spent two hours effectively proving it otherwise. The Slayer and her little fucktoy are nothing more than thorns in my side." 

"And you’ve had chance after chance to kill them, and ignored it."

Angelus shrugged and glanced over to Clarice, who was now chained to the wall, bound and gagged. In their incursion of passion, he and Darla had decided it was only fitting to make her watch her lover fuck another. She had been there; awake, to see the entire show in all its splendorous repetition. "I’ll admit," he said, "I was a bit distracted by…well…other things. Clarice is a doll when you get to know her…well, come to think of it, I never did at that…but she isn’t one for the bloodshed." He grinned and rose to his feet. "Not like you, Darla. There’s never been another like you." 

Darla was about to reply when Drusilla’s wail came again, and before either could make a move to follow it, the vampiress had stormed boldly into their private chamber, distress written plainly across her face. "No," she moaned. "No, this won’t do. This won’t do at all." 

"What is it, Precious?" 

"The howling stops. The howling has come to an end." She sniffled pitifully, quaking hands covering her eyes without success. "Naked in the woodshed. Wrapped in a blanket where none others can see." She glanced to Angelus. "She comforts him, Daddy. She’s stealing my William away!" 

"Your William has been stolen, Dru," Darla snapped, rolling her eyes. "He’s been stolen for a long time. Get used to it." 

"Ah, but his suffering," Angelus cooed to his distressed childe. "The Slayer might have his heart, Dru, but she doesn’t have his complacency. Can’t you sense that?" 

Darla was about to protest when she stopped suddenly, and her eyes went wide. "God," she murmured. "That was quick. And how…I thought you said…" 

He shrugged. "Like riding a bicycle. Ladies, you are talking to the guru of self-wallowing pitiable misery. Trust me when I say that after all Spike has done, his suffering has only begun." 

*~*~*

Bursting. From every vein. Every pore. Simply bursting from him with energy that frightens him. And he can’t reach it. Can’t stop it. Can’t do anything as his most innate conscious forces itself forward and shoves him into the back. Back where he can do nothing to but watch. Watch and scream. Scream his protest, scream his empty threats to make himself pay for what he’s about to do. Scream, scream, scream…but they can’t hear that. No. They can’t hear his screams. All they hear is his voice. They can’t see his terror. All they see is…evil. Anger. Evil. A demon. Evil. 

Him. 

**It would have been so easy, wouldn’t it? And it would have felt so goooooood. Or don’t you remember the taste of blood, William? The spoils of the innocent? You used to love it. Bathe in it.**

_No…leave me alone._

**Don’t remember? The girl in the coal bin? How she cried and cried and asked for her mommy. How quickly her neck—**

_Stop it!_

**Come to think of it, she looked a lot like Rosie, didn’t she? Golden curls, hazel eyes, dimpled smile. Is that why you like the child so much, William? She reminds you of past—**

_Shut up! I’m not listening. I’m not you. I’m me. I’m Spike. I’m—_

**William the Bloody.**

_Bollocks! Wanker wrote poetry. I—_

**One of either extreme, then. One wrote poetry, the other shoved railroad spikes through his victims heads. Two different minds, one body. You can’t be in the middle forever, William. Especially now. Now that you have chance to go back to your roots. To your heritage. You can’t deny the thrill that came with spilling their blood. They’ve humanized you, made you weak and accepting. They have turned you into one of them. You were meant for greatness. You were a legendary dark warrior. And now look at you—sniveling your sins into the arms of the Slayer. Wishing the world away. You’re more pathetic than Angel ever was**. 

_Stop it!_

**Cry some more, then. See where that gets you.**

_I’m not a monster I’m not a monster I’m not a monster I’m not a monster…_

**You’re a vampire. Vampires are monsters. It’s what you are. What you are meant for.**

_I’m not a monster. She said so. She—_

**Lies. They all lie. They know what you are, what you will do. What you are capable of. They know. It is only a matter of time.**

_Sodding rot. I’m not a monster. The monster’s in me, but I control it. I can control it. I can—_

**Not so easy to believe anymore, is it? Not with the chip out. Where’s your excuse flown to now? Gone the way of the dodo, I’d wager.**

_Never._

The voice was unreachable by all callings, and Spike, struggling through the darkness, couldn’t see it. Couldn’t find where it was coming from. What it was searching for. All he knew was he was lost. Turned around in a maze of patched shadows that perturbed the delusion of light. And at every bend, there was growing. A brooding force that he could not school. The face of everything he feared; everything he had tried to keep at bay. Tried to deny himself for the knowledge of what losing meant. 

But the shadows would not keep his secrets for long. Soon they were going to spill, and the sky would come tumbling down. Because the answer to his question was not covered in demon essence. The answer to his question was not squandered with supernatural merit. 

No, the answer was simple.

It was him. And he knew. He knew the second he turned the last corner, the face was his own. The face that he loathed for its intention. The demon. Inside him. 

Spike didn’t know why it surprised him, but it did. 

**It’s only a matter of time, mate. And you know it.**

_Not bloody likely._

**You think you’re better than it, it’s that right?**

It was fitting. Now that the secret was shared, all efforts for disguise ran to the wayside. No sense in hiding the voice when the speaker was in plain view. Spike knew suddenly why vampires didn’t have reflections; to see what was really there was terrifying. 

Even if it was only himself. 

_I don’t think I’m better than anything. I know what I am. So do they. It’s what keeps ‘em on their toes. It’s what keeps me from doing what I—_

**Oh, the other then, is it? Beneath them. Beneath her. All the time. That’s no way to live, William.**

_‘S the only way for me to live, mate. And in case you didn’t get the memo, the name’s Spike now._

**No just cause. You’re not Spike, you sodding poof. Spike knew no limitations. He took the meaning of his kind to heart. You’re nothing of the like. Believing the lies wherever you go. Take you Slayer’s words of faith with a smile on your face. Take it as far as you like. You think she’s going to ignore what you are just because you do? Think she won’t flinch in the morning when she finally notes that her shoulder’s just a fracture closer to dislocated than it was this time yesterday? Think she won’t second-guess herself every time she goes near Zack, wondering if she’s gonna set you off by looking at him? Think—**

_Sod off._

**Just speaking the truth, mate. After this, do you really think there’s any going back to what you had? She fancies you up with a few words, and you buy it? Good show for wankers, William. It’s not over yet. Not by a long shot.**

_It’s over when I say it’s over._

**Oh yeah? How ‘bout this?**

The door the end of the corridor creaked open slowly, and Spike, knowing he would regret but unable to deny the call of his blood, pushed his way through. There was a burst of light—luminous through all means—such that he momentarily panicked that he didn’t have the Gem of Amara on his finger. 

But then the light dimmed. The light dimmed and he saw them. 

Saw them. 

Entangled in each other. Flesh to flesh. Skin to skin. Another man on the ground with his wife. Moving slowly, oblivious to his presence. Oblivious to anything that— 

And there it was. The brewing anger. The rage. The hatred. Everything he repressed daily. Everything he pushed as far back as he could; suddenly called forward. Embraced. Wanted. Needed. Spike closed his eyes as his jaw clenched, and he blazed in warning, feeling the world tumble around him. Then there was nothing but the kill. Nothing but the innate need to peel the flesh from their bones and dine on the delicacies beneath. Nothing but the raw urge to… 

_No! Stop it! It’s not real, it’s not real! She loves me. She—_

**It’s not real. And yet it’s so believable. Come now, William. If the mere thought drives you to madness, what’s going to become of you when you see them in the morning?**

The last image. He saw himself biting into Buffy’s throat—a real bite. Not a peck, not an exertion of possession or authority, but a bite. There was blood. There was torn skin. And he was killing her. Killing her because he wanted to. Because it was fun. Because… 

And then it wasn’t just her. It was all of them. Ten of his friends all in a line. A shot rings out, down to nine. 

_God, help them! I can’t…It’s not me, it’s not me, it’s not—_

**Then how come it is?**

_I can’t. She promised…_

**They promise. They all promise. But they lie**. 

_Out out out! Get out of my bloody head!_

*~*~*

"Spike!" 

The scream of his name had roughly the same effect as being assaulted by a bucket of ice water in the morning. Spike gasped and leapt to attention, eyes wide with question, worry, and demand. It only took him seconds to recognize his surroundings; another to register the familiar feel of the Slayer curled in his embrace. And the weight of his entire being fell with steadfast relief. It was over. It was a dream. He was free of it. 

_A dream, a dream…a sodding dream._

Dreams had never felt that real. He remembered a select few—imagined scenarios when he first discovered his love for Buffy, but nothing that touched that level of frightening tangibility. None that touched him with anything resembling what he had just experienced.

It took the frightened murmur of his name to draw him back to consciousness. Spike glanced down at last and met his wife’s worried eyes and suddenly found himself stripped of the ability to form words. 

"Spike…are you all right?" 

**Images. So many images. Buffy and Zack. Naked. Together. Moving on the floor, slowly…anger…rage…need to…**

_No, no, no. Not again._

"Spike?" 

Gulp. 

"Buffy, I…" A few steady breaths rumbled through his throat as he attempted to find ground. His eyes were suddenly fixated on the scar, healing but real, that marred her face. The scar that he had given her. 

_There’s more where that came from. God, I won’t let them touch her. I won’t let…I won’t. Let me die first. I won’t…_

"Spike, talk. You’re scaring me." 

Bloody brilliant, mate. 

"It’s nothing," he managed to lie, forcing a smile to his lips. "Just…’m still a little…yesterday, I don’t know how I’m gonna…" 

"You need to talk to him." 

"He won’t forgive me, pet. I almost…" A choke commanded his voice as tears clouded his vision. "I could’ve killed…oh God, Kelly. The baby. Is she…did I—" 

Buffy pursed her lips. "I…Spike, I don’t know. But they’ll want to see you. They were worried last night when we couldn’t find you. It’s…it’s not fair to hide from them." 

Hiding from them might keep ‘em alive. Might keep ‘em safe. From me. 

"I don’t think I—" 

She pressed a defiant finger to his lips, eyes mounting over in that façade of resolution he had memorized so long ago. "You are," she insisted tightly. "Don’t argue with me. I’m not leaving you down here…chained up like some animal." 

He glanced down. "It’s what I am, innit?" 

"Spike…"

"Buffy, we don’t even know if I’m safe or not. What if it…" Emotion clouded his voice that he wasn’t prepared for, and he felt his eyes well with tears. God, he had cried enough these past few days to outlast several lifetimes. "I can’t lose you. Not you, Zangy, Kel…little Rosie, oh God, I threw her against—" 

"You won’t." 

"How can you know that, love? What if the demon comes out again? What if—" 

Carefully, she moved to unlock the shackles holding him prisoner, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He had to see that she was serious. That she meant it. If she had enough faith, perhaps it would make up for everything he lacked. Perhaps… 

Then she was nearing, her soft lips covering his. Welcoming him in. Demanding him closer. Clashing, nibbling, tasting with more fervor than he could have ever hoped. It wasn’t until he reached to grasp her shoulders that he noted the cuffs were gone. And then he didn’t care. Though the chains hadn’t prohibited much movement, he felt a burden lifted. As though touching her with liberation certified his stability. For long minutes, they battled each other—fighting, sparring, but never claiming or conceding victory. There could be no winners. Not when the prize granted to the finalist benefited both on so many delicious levels. 

When at last they pulled apart, Buffy rested her head against his shoulder, heaving deep, unneeded breaths. "I love you." 

He grinned. "I’m getting that." 

"I know that we have a lot to talk about…" 

"Yeah." 

"Chip…" She smiled softly and ran her hand through his peroxide strands, her eyes shushing him before he could vocalize his protest. "I trust you, Spike. And…I was…I should’ve believed you. You were right…about believing Dumbledore before believing you. That was…I’m so sorry about—" 

His eyes narrowed skeptically. "All right, who are you, and what have you done with my Slayer?" 

Buffy rolled her eyes and walloped him across the arm. "Hey, I’m trying to apologize!" 

"And I appreciate it. But you don’t—" 

"Dumbledore has never given me reason to trust him…other than what I’ve read in print." She brushed her lips against his softly. "I don’t know how or why, but if you say he’s the one who did it—" 

"He was! Then he bollixed me up with mojo and—" 

"Shhh, it’s all right. I believe you. But now’s not the time. We’ll…we’ll discuss it later. And Oz—" 

His face fell. 

"—wasn’t your fault, but we need to discuss it anyway." 

"What about Red? What’re we gonna…" 

Buffy sighed. "I don’t know. I…I can’t even…it’s Oz, you know?" She stopped when the pain in his eyes intensified. "But first, we gotta…Spike, please. If we’re going to make this better, we need to start by facing it. Accepting that it happened. You’re too strong to wallow in the dungeon and hope everything just…works itself out. All right? No matter what happens up there, I’ll be beside you. Right beside you." 

The corner of his mouth tugged lightly in the shadow of a grin. "Holding my hand?" he asked softly, bringing hers to his mouth and brushing his lips against the back. 

"Always." 

"But what if—"

"We’re going to stop playing on ‘what-if’s’." 

"Buffy…if I do something…if I start to change again, you gotta promise to stake me." He glanced down to escape the astonishment that overwhelmed her features. "I can’t…if I hurt anyone else, if I…it’d be the end of me. I can’t…" 

"You can’t ask me to do that." Tears were skating down her cheeks at the very thought. "I’ve…I’ve done it once already. Killing Angel…it nearly…but, God, Spike. I couldn’t…not you. Please don’t ask me to do that." 

"Love, it’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done. If it came down to it, you know you’d—"

"It won’t." 

"But if it did—" 

"You can’t…Spike, I won’t kill you. I don’t care what…please don’t even…don’t even think for a minute that that would be an option. That I could just…" She was sobbing in earnest now—every muscle in her small body convulsing as she buried herself in his embrace. "You’re not…you’re so much more…fuck being the Slayer, I couldn’t…I couldn’t honor a duty that had me kill the one person that makes my life make sense. Please…we’ll work this out. We’ll get through this. Don’t live on absolutes. Just trust me. We’ll work through this." 

"Shhh, love…" He cooed into her hair soothingly, rocking her back and forth. "You’re right. We’ll work through this. We’ll get it done." 

Right. Get it done. The notion seemed to calm her. Get it done. 

The Slayer was convinced. 

He wished he could share her sentiment. Because he promised. 

**They promise. They all promise. But they lie.**

Never. 

If only he could believe it. 

*~*~*

The morning was going exceptionally well. A visit to the Watcher’s room confirmed Spike was back to himself. He had half-expected an earful from his former best chum, warning in red that if he so much as touched Buffy again, he would wake up on fire. However, he was greeted only with understanding. That poignant look of acceptance, the touch of reassurance and the spitfire knowledge that he was no longer alone.

It was enough for a man to consider himself a wanker, but Spike was never happier to snag the bait. 

And yet, despite it all, he could not satisfy his qualm. The nagging voice that whispered everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. As though his insides were rumbling with the need for release. As though every minute was simply ticking down to the ultimate explosion of control. 

Spike clutched at Buffy’s hand tightly, unwilling to consider the imminent loom of his confrontation with their closest friends. He couldn’t…he… 

He couldn’t hurt them. Not again. He would rather die than see that. Than cause them pain. 

And he was afraid of losing control before he could tell them that.

All the worrying in the world could not have prepared him for the ultimate confrontation. The Great Hall came to a standstill when they entered the room, all eyes fixating on his weakened form. He felt liable to collapse at any minute. And yet he somehow maintained himself. All through watching them come close. Watching Zack’s eyes. Watching them fixed on him with concern as well as trepidation. 

Then they were eye-to-eye, and the lining of every injury burst into luminous light. 

"God…" Spike gasped, closing his eyes painfully. There had never been guilt like this. Never. Not when he first awoke with a soul. Not even when he met Buffy’s pained eyes after the attempted rape. Hurting the one you love was enough—hurting your family was something else entirely. "God…I…I’m…" 

He hazarded a glance to Kelly, and his world fell again. She was purple and patchy, the makings of several healing cuts aligning her face. A hand rested protectively over her belly, and his heart fell at the implication. 

"I’m so sorry," he mumbled, unable to stop himself from crying. "God I…" 

"Uncle Spike?" 

The voice broke him and he closed his eyes, unwilling to glance down. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t stand to see what damage his hands had done. Not yet. 

"’S fine, Bit," he muttered. "Please, just—" 

"It’s all right," Zack said reassuringly. "Really. Kelly and I…we talked. Everything…Spike, it wasn’t your fault." 

"How can you say that? I nearly—" 

"You didn’t," Kelly insisted. 

"But I could’ve." 

"Yeah…" Zack met Buffy’s eyes. "Just as easily as I could’ve…nearly did…ruined both our marriages. What happened was…it wasn’t planned. You had no control. Don’t you think I know that?" 

"Do you?" Spike forced himself to meet his friend’s imploring gaze. "You have no idea, Zangy. What I go through. We play around and pretend it isn’t there, but…" 

**He’s thinking about fucking her.**

Spike stopped and forced the voice to the back of his head. "’S there," he continued a minute later when he found his footing. "All the sodding time. My…my demon. My—" 

**He’s thinking about shoving her against the wall and ramming into her. Right now. Right here for all to see. Can’t you see it? Can’t you feel it?**

"Spike, I know you," Kelly whispered, smiling even if it caused her pain. The cut on her lip was nasty, but she smiled all the same. "I know what…well, I can’t presume to know everything about vampirehood, but I do know that you would never, ever hurt us if you were in your right mind. What you saw…it prompted something. It…" 

Kelly’s voice drowned into a monotone of normality. Such to the point where he couldn’t hear her. He knew she was speaking—he could see her lips moving, could see the animation on her face—but the words were lost on him. 

**And she’d enjoy it, wouldn’t she? Your Slayer, writhing like a bitch in heat in front of all these people. You can see it, can’t you? Bucking against him. Screaming his name. Pulling him tighter into her—**

_Stop!_

**Only one way, William. Only one way to make sure that never happens. Let it go. Let it all go. Let loose your inhibitions for once, and allow the demon free reign.**

_Never happen._

Something was squeezing his hand. "Spike?" 

**You won’t know peace until you have it over with.**

_You’re lying._

**I’m the only one you can trust.**

"Spike?" That was Zack, taking a step forward, eyes widening with furthered concern. 

_I won’t let you have them._

**I would never presume to take what’s yours.**

And it snapped. Spike didn’t know exactly when, but he wagered it had something to do with Zack putting a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. In an instant, he had roared to life and smacked her to the ground, snarling with the same fervor as the day before, only with more intensity. It took only her stunned, hurt expression to draw him back from the line and realize what he had done, and he stumbled against the wall in grave defeat. 

The strings of self-loathing were the worst. Pulling and grasping at anything. 

_God no. No. Can’t control it. Can’t control it. Mustn’t let it win._

"Buffy…" he gasped. "Oh God. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend. Not for anyone, even you. I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t…I can’t let myself…" 

Then he was gone. Torn from his place, running away from the horror-filled stares of his friends. His family. Gone. 

It was time to end this. The only way he knew how. 

The only way that would ensure he never hurt them again. 


	16. Chapter 16

"Are you all right?" Zack asked Buffy as he helped her to her feet. Several minutes had passed since Spike erupted from the room, and all the Slayer had been able to do was lie prostrate at her friend’s feet, practically oblivious to the excited chattering around her. She could only stare at the place he had been. The now-vacant wall, covered in his scent. The look in his eyes. The despair… 

"What happened?" Kelly demanded. "He just…he just exploded, I’ve never…"

"It’s the demon," the Slayer whispered, her gaze not faltering. A thousand images flashed through her head—everything up to and including his nightmare. The things he had been muttering. The promise he wanted her to make upon his wake. Everything mounting to uncontrollable plateaus. At last she understood. She understood everything. "He’s fighting…" 

"I thought he was all right," Zack said, panic in his tone rising. "I mean, with last night…and the biting…and the claim-y thing. Didn’t that make everything all right again?" 

"The demon broke through, Zack. That’s all that matters." Buffy was walking forward, toward the entrance doors and through. "The demon broke through…it got closer to him last night than it ever has in his entire existence. It’s…it’s hold has more power than mine…because it’s inside him all the time." Her gaze distanced. "Just like he said. Just like he was trying to…oh god. Oh god, I’m losing… oh god. I really am losing him. I can’t…I…" 

"Buf, it’ll be all right." 

At last, she whipped around to face him, tears shining vibrantly in her eyes. "How can you say that?" she spat. "You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know what he’s going through! How scary it is. How real. The idea that you could lose control at any minute. The idea that…" Emotion got the better of her and she trailed off, shaking her head as her sobs got the better of her. "You’ve never…you’ve killed, right. You killed Slater. But this…this is…he has no authority. He’s fighting himself—he’s not letting himself believe that he’s a man. That he’s not what…and if I can’t save him, then GOD, no one can." 

"But, he’s Spike," Zack mumbled, still shocked beyond any convention of normality. "He’s…he’s…" 

"A vampire. A vampire whose…" Buffy shook her head. "A very sensitive, very tough-on-the-outside-doughy-on-the-inside vampire. And he’s…" 

Kelly stepped forward and tentatively took the Slayer’s shoulder, as if to anchor her mind to her body before she joined her lover on whatever plane they had lost him to. "What do you think he’ll do?" 

"I don’t know. I…I…the last time he thought he was…the last time was when he tried to rape me. And he went off and got himself a soul to make sure that never happened again. He doesn’t have that luxury this time. Lurky made that very clear when he turned the tables and sacrificed his so that I could keep mine." Buffy’s eyes clouded further at the very memory. The knowledge of everything that had brought them where they were—what he had done to ensure her happiness. Everything. "I don’t know what he’ll do. Only that this morning he asked me to…" And her eyes widened in realization, the world came crashing down around her. "NO! I won’t let him. He can’t…he fucking promised me he would never do this. He…" 

That was it. She was gone; left now to innate instinct. The claim that had failed her before could not rival with this. It would not fail her again. 

Not when the collateral was so robust. 

Zack glanced to Kelly. "What…?" 

"It’s Uncle Spike," Rosie murmured, voicing her small opinion for the first time since her godfather had fled the scene. Her eyes were wide with concern, lip trembling with the threat of tears. "She knows. She knows what he’s going to do." 

Over her head, the girl’s parents exchanged a quick glance of concern and simultaneously knelt to the floor. "What is it, sweetie?" Kelly whispered. "What’s Uncle Spike going to do?" 

"He’s going out for a walk." 

Zack and Kelly glanced to each other questioningly. 

"What does that mean?" 

The girl didn’t need to reply; it all came crashing down in a world of unfathomable comprehension. Her father’s eyes went wide with self-actualizing horror. Out for a walk. In the sunlight. 

Without the ring. 

"Oh God," he whispered, bolting to his feet. He was out the door before his family could question him, following Buffy blindly through a maze of corridors. 

He could only hope he wasn’t too late. 

*~*~*

A hundred and fifty years, and he had never stopped to simply stare at the sky. 

Spike stood, bathed in sunlight, at the edge of the boundary line at the Hogwarts terrain. He squinted a bit but was otherwise complacent, gazing off into the scenery he could never possess. Making funny pictures out of clouds as he had wished to do in his youth. Boys from his day and age weren’t encouraged to waste time dallying with the sky. Schooling had encouraged him to bury his head in his studies, eventually spawning book after book of wankerish poetry. Who knew it would someday reach the best-seller list? 

Bathed in sunlight. Truly the first moment of appreciation since Willow announced Dumbledore’s impromptu gift. The first one. The only gift that had really been a gift. Give a man his sunlight, take away his chip. It seemed to be a fair trade. 

Spike’s eyes drifted to the ring bound around his finger, free hand exploring the silver it was embedded in. Something so simple could come with such a guarantee of warmth and protection. How was it so? 

His heart constricted. He wanted to say goodbye. He wanted to hold her one last time, but knew his conviction would waver if he saw her again. He wanted to apologize to Zack for real, but knew his friend would talk him out of it. He wanted to hug Kelly and give her the reassurance she needed about her marriage, but knew one glance at that busted lip would leave him wrecked. He wanted to kiss Rosie’s head and let her know how much he loved her, but he couldn’t bear it if the last thing he saw was the destruction he had lain upon her sweet face. 

He wanted so many things. But vampires weren’t granted liberties. There was no free-for-all. There was nothing but the truth. The truth of what he was, what he would always be, and the knowledge that no power on the earth could change it. 

He refused to let himself hurt them. Not again. Not when he loved them so much. 

Spike released a long sigh and closed his eyes, indulging the feel of light against his skin. Warming. Once. 

Then his fingers clasped tightly around the band, and without hesitation, began to pull… 

…and never made it. Before the ring could cross the first knuckle, Spike found himself tackled with an armful of Slayer, pinned to the ground and crushed into a possessive embrace. Every part of him cried out in joyous release even as he furrowed with instinctive anger. And yet every probable protest withered and died when she buried her sobbing head into his shoulder and wrapped her arms about his waist, pulling him to her with an arm for strength. 

"You bastard!" she cried, voice muffled with emotion and lost against the tide of cotton. "You can’t do this! You can’t leave me! You promised! You can’t…oh god, you can’t you can’t…" 

Spike was lost. He knew that without needing anything spelled out. A groan of concession rumbled through his throat, and his arms came around her, his own tears spilling. "Didn’t want to," he moaned into her hair. "Only way…only way to never…" 

"No!" It killed him when she pulled away, when he had to see what her grief looked like. What he had caused simply by considering what he had considered. By taking it as far as he had. "It’s not the only way! We’ll get through this, Spike. We will. We will. But you can’t…you can’t…you promised me forever. You fucking promised me, just like I promised you. Remember? We’ll get through this. We’ll get through this…" 

Spike clutched her tightly to him, only vaguely aware of Zack standing no more than twenty feet away. He could smell the relief in the air, and the notion only prompted more tears. Relief. Relief from those he hardly deserved it from. Relief that he was here, that he was alive, and that they had gotten to him in time. 

"I love you," he murmured into her hair. "Didn’t want to hurt you. Any of you. Thought it was the only way." 

"You thought killing yourself was the only way to keep from hurting me?" she demanded, slightly erratic. 

"I can’t…I hurt you…I…" 

"It’s over. It’s over now. We’ll fight it…whatever it is that’s…" Unable to find words, she simply pulled him in for another tearful embrace. "We’ll fight it. And we’ll win." 

Win. Right. Because that’s what heroes do. They win. 

Spike brushed his lips against her temple, closing his eyes to savor the sensation. "Always, love," he mumbled. "You’re right. You’re…I’m so sorry." 

"We’ll fight it. You just…you can’t do this to me again. You promised." 

"I know." He pressed his forehead to hers and nodded slowly. "And I will."

They remained frozen for a few minutes until Zack started forward again. He helped the two to their feet and met his friend’s gaze with wordless candor. There was too much to say right now to rely on mere words alone. Something indefinitely to save for another time. 

Another time. Not now. Not now when there were so many hearts to heal. With a nod of silent agreement, their pact was sealed. The three wrapped their arms around each other and began the silent trek back to the castle. 

*~*~*

The gossip had gone into full fury as all four of the people in question had left the room. When Kelly appeared in the doorway though, it died down for a moment. When they noticed her inattentiveness to her surroundings, they continued their chatter once more. 

Kelly was in too much shock to care. She leaned up against the door jam as the horror of everything hit home again. She released her daughter’s hand as she brought both of her own to cradle her stomach and drift off into a world of possibility. She was imagining what the world be like if they didn’t make it to him in time. 

Most seemed to ignore the woman off to the side, but Lorne and Wesley could not. After a few minutes, they decided that they should at least help her to her seat. But, as they placed their napkins down and pushed out their chairs, Xander was already walking across the room. 

"Uncle Xander!" Rosie said tossing a smile his way. She had refused to leave her mother’s side, but had placed many worried glances toward the table and the door that Spike, Buffy, and her father had not returned through. 

"Hey there, Rosie Posy," He said scooping her up into his arms. He then took hold of her mother’s hand. "Kelly?" 

She didn’t seem to register his presence, but she allowed him to pull her toward the seat she was sitting in before Spike had entered the room. When she was placed into her chair, she finally looked up with a form of recognition. "Thanks, Xander," she muttered. 

"No prob," he said placing Rosie down in her seat and taking Zack’s. He took her hand once again. "Is everything OK?" 

When she shook her head no, the talking began to cease. They were waiting to hear what the latest gossip could possibly be. "Spike went out for…a walk." 

It took a moment before Xander comprehended. "Without the ring," he said slowly. 

Kelly nodded. "Buffy and Zack went to stop him before…" She couldn’t allow herself to finish the statement. The thought alone was unbearable without putting it into words. 

"Maybe it would be best," Ferris admitted. 

"What?" Kelly said looking up at him in shock. 

"If they didn’t catch him. Don’t get me wrong. Spike’s a nice guy when he’s not extra demon possessed. But I think it would be safe for all of us if we didn’t have to worry about him killing again." 

Kelly brought her hand to her breast as she gasped. "How could you say that?" 

"He’s got a point," Slater said. "He’s a murderer. And he tried to kill you just last night. You saw him. He’s like a rabid dog." 

"But that wasn’t him," Kelly pleaded as she looked around the table to see a number of unconvinced faces. "He couldn’t control himself. And he’s not a rabid dog." 

"He doesn’t have a soul or a chip," Slone pointed out. 

"He has a soul. Maybe not in the formal sense of the word, but he does. I’ve seen it. I still see it. He’s only a man with a lot of inner turmoil. God, can’t you see that?" Kelly said in tears. 

"Kelly, listen to yourself," Lisa snapped. "He’s not a man. He’s a vampire. And he’s dead. He’s a dead vampire." 

"A monster," Slater added. 

"NOO!!!" Rosie hysterically screamed. 

"Look what you’ve done, Kel," Slater said pointing at the crying girl. "It’s bad enough that you and Zack believe this shit, but you have your daughter hanging out with a deadly bloodsucker." 

"Guys," Xander interceded. "Let’s just drop this. It’s not going to accomplish anything. Besides, every morning we have a crappy breakfast. For once, can we get through it?" 

"It’s OK, sweetcheeks," Lorne said throwing Kelly a grin. "We believe ya." 

"Are you kidding?" Lisa said. "Slater’s right. He’s a monster. I think that it would be a favor if he rid himself. I don’t want to be trapped in here with a psycho-deadly-vamp. We already have four plain deadly ones." 

"He killed Oz last night," Josh said meekly. 

"See," Ferris said patting the Deputy Chief of Staff on the back. "Even Josh agrees." 

"No," he quickly amended. "I’m just saying that right now, he’s a threat. I think that we might wanna be prepared if we have to…." He cast a sorrowful glance at Kelly before finishing with. "Put him down." 

"Josh!" Donna said slapping his arm. 

He swallowed hard. "I think… we should… just be prepared is all. I’m not saying let’s go out and do it this minute." 

"I am!" Ferris said. "He killed Willow’s boyfriend. And he could kill us too. We all saw him just now. He’s out of his mind." 

"Agreed," Slater said. 

"How can you…?" Kelly said wide-eyed. "Last night…. Oz was wolfed out. He was going to kill us." 

"Please don’t give us a lecture on how werewolves are misunderstood, too," Slater mocked. 

"They are. But… but…" 

"Look at you," Cameron said. "And look at your daughter. He did that to you." 

"It wasn’t him!!!" She screamed. 

"Please—" Wesley said trying to control the table. 

Kelly went on. "Oz…was going to kill us. But Spike saved us." 

"Because he wanted to kill you himself," Lisa snapped. 

"Too bad that you didn’t sleep with him," Slater said with a wicked grin. "Then maybe he would’ve eased up on you. Well, I guess that would all depend on how you compared to his wife. But Zack liked her show, so I heard." 

"Go to hell," she spat, shooting daggers with her tear filled brown eyes. 

Rosie couldn’t contain it anymore and picked up her warm bowl of oatmeal and chucked it at the man who had just insulted her mother. 

"Bitch," he snapped as the warm gooeyness splattered across his front. 

As soon as the bowl was in the air, the girl ran off toward the door. She never got through it though, because she ran right smack into a man. She looked up to see his question filled eyes, before she cried out and reached for him. 

He bent down and took her in his embrace before acknowledging the rest of the room. "What is going on?" Giles said slowly. He tensed when he saw that the child’s mother was also in tears. 

"Just talking about the reality of our current state," Ferris muttered. 

"They were talking of killing Spike," Wesley admitted. 

The Watcher nodded his head absently as he stood up with the sobbing girl in his arms. "There will be no more killing." 

"How are you going to stop anything?" Lisa snapped. "Not like you’re really listened to anymore." 

Giles’s jaw tightened as he gave the ignorant woman a look. "Don’t you have a son to watch?" 

"Dawn took him out before the Psycho Vampire came down for a snack," she said smugly. 

"Well… then shut the bloody hell up," he growled. "Or I might recommend you for brunch." 

"Cute, Gramps," Slater said as he stood up. 

"I believe that we should just let this whole discussion go," Wesley said nervously. 

"I agree," Cordy replied. "This is getting a little too crazy." 

"That’s why we need to stop him," Ferris retorted. 

"Who the fuck do you think you guys are?" Kelly yelled. 

"Somebody has to take responsibility, Kelly," Slater said sauntering around the table and picking up a random bowl of oatmeal.

"Hey! That’s my breakfast," Donna whined. 

"Sorry babe. But somebody’s got to teach this kid that you can’t go around throwing food at people." 

"I think that’s a lesson for the parents to give," Xander said as his eyes narrowed on the jock. 

"Well, they seem to busy screwing around with vampires." 

"Touch this girl or her mother and I will beat you senseless, you sodding arse," Giles said coldly as he gently stroked rumpled blond curls. 

"Real intimidating," Slater chuckled as he approached. 

Xander grabbed a hold of his shirt and whirled Slater around to face him. "Well, if you don’t believe him, just know that I’ll be helping with the beating of you senseless." 

It wasn’t until the jock turned to see the look in the Watcher’s eyes again, did he put the bowl down with a crash. "Fine," he said as he stormed past the man with child and out of the hall completely. 

"Thanks," Kelly said to everyone who helped her in her argument. Whether it had been in support or merely trying to stop the opposition. She then got up and walked to Giles. "Thanks to you, too," she muttered without a smile as she went to retrieve her daughter. 

But he refused to let loose. "Come on, Kelly. You should probably go back to bed." 

"I’m fine," she muttered as she reached for her daughter once more. 

"No. Come on." He gave her a look much like that of her own father when she was a small child. She sighed in defeat as she walked past him. 

He followed as she walked outside and sat on the steps. She pulled her knees to her chest as she buried her head in her hands. "Oh, Kelly," he sighed as he sat down beside her. 

"He went… out for a walk. He’s going to…" 

"Spike?" He asked not needing an answer. "I’m sure that Zack and Buffy will reach him." He acknowledged for the first time that he noticed their absence inside. 

"Giles," Rosie said unburying her face from his chest as she looked toward him and the sunshine with a grin. 

"Yes," He said smiling shyly. 

"Sorry I was bad." 

"No. No, you weren’t bad." 

Rosie was pleased with her lack of punishment. She reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Will it be OK?" 

"I hope," Giles said, afraid of making promises that he couldn’t deliver. 

"Little flirt," Kelly said to her daughter with a smile. She then directed her words to the Watcher. "She can woo anyone of you guys. But I think that it’s Zack, Spike and you that she always runs to first. You guys let he get away with everything." 

"I do not," he scoffed. The he laughed. "Who am I kidding? Of course I do." 

Kelly laughed for a moment with him before laying her head on his shoulder. "What if he…?" 

"Don’t think like that. Let’s just wait and see what happens when they get back." 

"You’re right," she sighed, as he put a comforting arm around her shoulder. Her body began to relax, but quickly tensed again. "Willow? Does she…. know?" 

"Yes," Giles answered exhaling shakily. "Dumbledore and I informed her last night. She handled it well. Considering." 

"I should really go and be with her." She made no move to get up. "After they get back."

"I think she would like that." 

"I don’t know what we would do without you, Rupert," Kelly said as her daughter giggled at the name. 

"Oh, you would manage." 

"I don’t know about that. If there is ever anything that you need, you know that you can come ask me. Right?" 

"Well… you could stop trying to fix me up on dates," he said with a wink. 

"Maybe," she considered with a smile. "But, what about Madam Hooch? She was saying some pretty nice things you." 

"Really?" he said. 

Kelly nudged him gently in the side as he squeezed her shoulder. "You wouldn’t believe. She said…" 

*~*~*

As Zack’s adrenalin lessened again, the pain he was in intensified. But he trekked on without a sound as he wrapped his arm round his best friend’s waist. 

"Kelly," he whined. "Do I have to go down to breakfast? Is it really a big deal if I stay here and wallow in my pain?"

"Yes. You have to go down." 

"But… I took a shower. That was enough movement for one day," he said recalling the pain of crawling into the shower as his wife washed his wounds and eventually re-taped his ribs. 

He sat on the bed with only his pants on. "I think breakfast in bed could be given, at least. They won’t take offense." 

"No, Zack," she snapped. She walked out of the bathroom to face him as she brushed her brunette tresses. "We have to go down there. They all are going to be talking about how bad he hurt us. How bad he is. We have to show them that they’re wrong." 

"OK… so we’re going for Spike. But he doesn’t care what they say." 

"He does. And even if he doesn’t, I do. We do. We can’t let them talk about how much of a monster he is. If we’re down there, we can defend him." 

"Fine. Help me with a button up shirt, because," he said barely lifting his arms from his sides. "That’s how high these things are going today." 

"How ya doing, Zangy?" Spike said lightly as he heard the groan that accidentally escaped his lips. 

"Just fine," he said clenching his teeth as he gripped Spike’s waist tighter. 

"That’s how high these things are going today." 

"My ass," Zack muttered. 

Spike stopped. "You need a break?" He asked in all seriousness. He could see plain as day that Zack was in pain. 

"No, I’m fine. You just kinda suck to get in a fight with," he said pulling away. He brought his hands to his sides, but made sure to smile to show no hard feelings. 

"Yeah." Spike flinched. "Wouldn’t want to get in a fight with me either. Probably kick my own arse." 

"I think reason twenty-six was a good one," Zack grumbled. 

"What?" Both in his presence asked at once. 

"Nothing. Just a little game Kel and I have. Besides, Bloody, I could kick your ass this second." 

Spike had to laugh as he saw his barely-walking-buddy challenging him to a little spar. "I doubt." 

"Bring it, Bleach Boy,"

"Can you believe him?" Spike said with a grin as he turned to his wife. "Guy doesn’t know when to stop." 

As soon as his back was turned, Zack let out a silent scream of pain as he grabbed his ribs. He didn’t want Spike to know how badly hurt he truly was. 

The sight, though not really funny, was humorous to the Slayer all the same. Watching Zack talk big, but double over in pain the next second, was enough to cause a giggle. 

"What?" Spike said catching her eye and turning around. 

Zack had quickly resumed his former position and swallowed his pain. "So, you guys find this funny? Well, you won’t be laughing as I‘m grinding your bones into the ground." 

"Hear that, Slayer," he said slapping Zack on the shoulder playfully before turning to his wife once more. "Now, he’s threatening you too." 

Zack caught her eye this time as he clenched his ribs and silently screamed once again. His eyes bulged as he bounced himself up and down to control the pain. 

"Yeah," she managed to say before bursting into chuckles once again. Spike turned around to catch Zack bouncing up and down. 

"So," Spike said with a nod and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Teasing me in front of my lady?" His inner demon was fully contained as he looked upon his friend. 

"Yeah," Zack squeaked. "Just mocking." 

The platinum vampire arched a brow. "That wasn’t as convincing, Morris." 

"Fine," Zack said as he flopped down on the ground. "God, you hurt like hell." 

"Sorry," Spike said kneeling down before him. He rubbed his chin. "If it makes you feel better, your wedding band did a little number on my sexy face." 

Zack laughed. "Yeah, it does." He clenched his ribs. "Please don’t hurt me," he muttered with a smile. 

"Sorry—" 

"Shut up, William," he snapped before he could go further. "I don’t need an apology and I’m not afraid of you. We all forgave you. So help me up." He tried pulling himself off the grass, but needed both vampires’ assistance. 

"I just—" 

"Fuck!" Zack yelled cutting him off again. "Stop it, Spike! You don’t need to say anything about it." He met his gaze and said his next words more calmly. "We all blame ourselves. But, later. We’ll talk about it later. First," he groaned. "I wanna go to bed. And there’s two girls in that castle with my last name that would just love to tell you how much they love you." 

"Yeah," Spike replied sheepishly as he looked up at the building before him. "Are they really hurt?" 

"Nah," Zack said casually. "Actually, I think you got me ten times worse than you got them. Maybe even Buf." 

Buffy scoffed. "Playing the big bad man now, are ya?" 

Zack grin as he attempted to straighten his shirt collar. "Well, I was the biggest threat." 

"Wanker," Spike chuckled as they walked on together. 

Though Zack was relatively sure that Kelly would have retreated to the privacy of their room in the midst of all the excitement, he still insisted on dragging Spike and Buffy back to the Great Hall. They needed blood, and thanks to his wife, he was out of bed and getting some breakfast never hurt anyone. Especially those with a few bones to mend. 

Though Zack could walk fine all on his own, Spike and Buffy both wordlessly insisted on grasping a limb for support. The Slayer was tentative at first, tossing her husband a look of silent question, and smiling softly when he nodded his complacence. 

"Think I got control of it now," he told her. "Don’t even know what set it off before." 

Zack snickered. "I’ve got a few theories." 

"Might wanna watch your mouth, Zangy. Y’never know when something incredibly stupid’s ‘bout to come out." The other man might have had grounds for offense had he not immediately noted the customary sparkle in his friend’s eyes. The same that was not quite as vibrant as before, but on the slow journey to getting there. 

Such nonverbal reassurance was the only thing that could have prompted his own reply. "And you’re walking proof of that, aren’t you?" 

Spike’s eyes bulged comically. "I believe I’ve been insulted." 

Buffy chuckled and leaned into her husband, inhaling deeply. This was perfection. This was they way it was always supposed to be. Although they had a long way to go, the liberation in discussion alone was enough to give her hope that everything would eventually be back as it was. Right as rain. "I seem to recall a time or a thousand when your foot has lived in your mouth," she observed with a cheeky grin. 

Spike instantly recognized the look on her face and favored her with a lavish leer. "Oh really?" he mused. "Pray tell, Mrs. Bloody." 

At that, she made a face. "Okay, we really need to stick to Summers." 

"Yeah, ‘cause that’s manly." 

"We could always use…what was it? Mercatante? Wasn’t that your real last name?" 

"You two are doing the distraction game again," Zack accused begrudgingly. "I wanna hear about one of the multiple times Spike has said something incredibly stupid." 

Spike snickered and rolled his eyes. "You’ve been present at most of the very numbered incidents." 

"Yeah, but if it was between you two, it was likely juicy." At their put-off look, he began to whine. "Come on! Humor the wounded, huh?" 

Spike met Buffy’s eyes and his face fell when he instantly noted the truth behind this fact. "Uhhh…" 

"It was the morning after our first…" Buffy gestured emphatically even if the elaboration wasn’t needed. Zack giggled like a twelve-year old and winked at his best friend, who bristled and turned, rubbing the back of his head. "And I was being Stupid-Buffy, playing the disinterested-disgusted-hard-to-get-you’re-an-evil-vamp—" 

"Something she was a bloody natural at," Spike muttered dejectedly, grinning in spite of himself when she squeezed his hand once in reassurance. 

"But, of course, being Mr. Persuasion, Spike got me back on the ground…" 

Zack was still giggling, injury momentarily forgotten. It was an exercise of the true male persona—give him the details of someone’s sex-life, and all peripheral pain is something of the past until the scandalous newness wears off. 

Spike’s eyes widened and he grinned saucily. "Ohhhh…" he said as remembrance dawned on him. "I’m beginning to—" 

"And he was…ahem…" The Slayer broke off at the suddenly-aghast look on her husband’s face. Though he was hardly one to keep his sexual prowess a secret—most stories spilled over a pint at Willy’s or on patrol—she had never been present for any conversation. She wasn’t supposed to know any had taken place, and she sure as hell wasn’t supposed to add her two cents. The situation made him risibly uncomfortable and he began fidgeting again. Had vampires a pulse, he knew his face would be beat red. "He looked up and said that he had always known that the only thing better than killing a slayer would be…" More emphatic gesturing and giggling from Zack. "Needless to say, someone didn’t get any that morning." 

Zack turned to Spike and grinned. "Sucks to be you," he jested good-humoredly. 

Spike eyed Buffy at that and quirked a brow. Well then. Turnabout’s fair play. "That’d be literally," he said with a wink. 

It was the Slayer’s turn to fluster. As her eyes filled with horror, she turned and thwapped her husband hard across the arm. "Spike!" 

Their friend was lost to another sea of chuckles, and he rode out the end of his mirth, the vampires exchanged a glance and again resumed position on either side. Almost predictably, the amusement on his face melted into a grimace of pain, and he nodded as they began steering him once more into the Great Hall. 

"Well, well, isn’t this cozy?" 

It was expected, but drew them to a halt all the same. Zack’s eyes snapped shut as he fought for control—sure that if Buffy and Spike hadn’t been holding onto him, he would lunge at the man who was his former friend, regardless of injury. "Slater," he managed to ground out. 

The man was behind them, head tilted cockily as he strolled into view. "Cheery morning to you, too," he drawled sarcastically. "Sorry about the interruption, but I heard a rumor upstairs that you two were actually able to save the monster before he went poof. I thought, ‘Nah, Zack wouldn’t do that, especially after the entire ‘trying-to-kill-Kelly’ thing. Gotta tell you, Preppy, you really need to get your priorities straight. Man fucks your wife, and you have him for dinner—literally. Man tries to kill your wife, and the first thing you do is—" 

"You might wanna stop there," Spike advised lowly. "Wouldn’t want to accidentally crack your skull against the wall, but if you keep prattling on, I won’t feel particularly obligated to stop these dangerous hands from becoming acquainted with that thick neck of yours." 

"Oh, go on, please," Slater replied, hands finding purchase on his hips as he neared, eyes sparkling. "Anything you do just discounts the points dear Kelly was trying to make at breakfast." 

"What?" Zack snapped. 

"Get off it, Preppy." 

"I’m fairly certain I heard you say my wife’s name, something you should be careful about if you want your lips to remain attached to your face." 

"Whaddya gonna do? Sic your pet vamp on me?" 

Spike growled warningly, though at the notion or the threat was anyone’s guess.

"Oh no. I’d take the liberty on that one. Wouldn’t want to cheat myself of a highly pleasurable session of kicking your ass." 

Slater snickered and looked him up and down. "No offense, Morris, but you couldn’t kick a fruit fly’s ass right now." 

"You better start talking or you might find yourself serving position as our main course tonight." 

"How original." 

"TALK! What did you do to Kelly?" 

Slater snickered again and glanced to Spike briefly, who had released Zack in a fit of anger and was all but being physically restrained by Buffy. "She was a mess," he said, voice coated with counterfeit concern. "After you left to save your murderer, me and Ferris, we tried to talk some sense into her. Get her to see the light that the only way to deal with a monster is to put it down." He said the last words very deliberately, eyes on Spike the entire time. 

"You are without a doubt the stupidest man I’ve ever met," Buffy deadpanned, cobalt gaze piercing through him. 

Her comment went ignored, which only served to piss her off further. It was obvious that Slater wasn’t going to take her seriously—she was a girl. Though Zack recognized his friend’s reasoning from many accounts in high school, he figured telling Buffy this would only make the situation worse. 

And the jock was perfectly capable of doing that on his own. "Oh, Kel did her little ‘noble’ routine, but somehow, I was distracted by the interesting make-up she was wearing." Deliberately, he stepped toward Spike, shaking his head in the suggestion of shame. "Black and blue really doesn’t do her justice." 

"Fancy trying it out for yourself?" 

Slater’s brows perked. "Think you could take me?" 

"Vampire, mate. Sorry if the recently not-so-departed fail to get me shaking in my skivvies." Spike shook his head and tossed Zack a skeptical glance. "You mean to tell me this ponce was actually your best chum back in the day?" 

"What can I say?" Zack observed coldly. "I was desperate." 

"Obviously, much hasn’t changed," Slater retorted, indicating Buffy. "Go from Kelly to…that? Sheesh, Zack. Should’ve known the best you could do was fuck a corpse." 

"That’s enough!" Spike growled fiercely and tore from his wife’s embrace, shoving the offending man against the wall with animalesque brutality. Behind him, the Slayer and Zack exchanged a quick worried glance—the same that was discounted immediately when they noted his reaction was not for the insinuation of what nearly happened between them, rather for the innate need to defend his lady’s honor. 

"Yeah," Slater said tauntingly. "Go ahead. Tear my head off. Isn’t that what you monsters do?" 

"Spike…" Zack said neutrally, taking a step forward. "Calm down, man…" 

"Oh, I’m calm, Zangy," Spike replied, eyes never leaving the jock’s. His tone was indeed calm. Eerily calm. It was enough to persuade Morris to stop in his tracks before he inadvertently made the situation worse. "Calm enough to know exactly what I’m doing. Got a right good head on my shoulders." He bristled and tossed an almost-irritated glance in their direction. "Really think I’d let this tosser get to me that easily?" When they visibly relaxed at his digression, the Cockney turned back to Slater, voice dropping to the tenor used only by an ultra-pissed-off Master Vampire. "But you’d do well to remember this, mate. Time for a little Monster Education. Take a good look at Zangy. A good, long look." 

Slater stared harshly into his eyes for long minutes but finally did as he was asked when he noted that he couldn’t move, and the vampire wasn’t going to allow him leave until he obeyed. 

Despite his posing and not-so-artful attempts at hiding his pain, Zack was bluntly a train wreck. His face looked to have become intimately acquainted with a two by four as well as two-by-four’s close personal friend, Mr. Mallet. One shoulder hanging lower than the other and he was visibly fighting the inherent urge to cover his broken ribs. Though he walked without difficulty, there was a notable limp in stride. He had a telltale movie-of-the-week shiner, and the hint of vampire fangs just barely danced above the skin at his jugular. In short: he looked horrible. It was the expression he displayed that made his appearance so easy to disregard. Like he could stand to go ten rounds with Evander Holyfield without batting an eye, and win every match. 

Spike noted Slater’s face fall and grinned smugly in satisfaction. Though the other man was still far from exhibiting his fear, enough was there in possession to make play on it. As though noting for the first time how real the situation was, not to mention the close proximity of the offending vampire. He briefly debated going into game face, but dismissed the idea just as easily. Such would only support the demon theory, and even if it was just as dangerous, he needed the man to know who was in charge. 

"Yeah," he drawled lowly, eyes sparkling with barely-contained glee. God, he loved this part. "All of that was done with my bare hands. Not too pretty, is it? And I like Zack. Just imagine what I could do to you, mate. Just how far I could push it." 

At that, the confidence slowly began leaking into Slater’s eyes, and he tried to laugh it off. "Is that so?" he asked. "There’s already a lynching party forming in your honor. Do you really think letting your monster out—" 

"Oh, but it wouldn’t be the monster," Spike replied. "I wouldn’t want the monster to take my satisfaction. But you see, it’s not gonna work out like that. You’re gonna hop off your high and mighty horse and never mention anything ‘bout my wife, Zack, his bird, or our relationship ever again. And you wanna know why?" 

Slater didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. 

"The fact that you’re constantly ‘bout them ‘cause of their association with me leaves me to conclude that your real problem it’s right here. Moreover, since you seem to be running to everyone else, I gotta reason that you don’t wager your complaint to me ‘cause you know what I’m capable of, and it scares the living piss outta you." He flashed a frightening, toothy grin. "So here’s how it’s gonna work out, Muck-For-Brains. You got something you wanna say, take your best bloody shot. You leave my lady, Zangy, Kelly, and the Bit out of it, or you’re gonna wake up in pieces." 

"Why wait?" Slater demanded, though it came out more as an unmanly squeak. "I bet your demon’s just rallying it up for a fight." 

"It is," Spike acknowledged with a nod. "It always is. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?" 

It took Buffy a minute to realize she had been addressed, the exchange commanding all her attention. She hadn’t even noticed the growing crowd that now encircled them, or the excited whispers that promised new gossip to discuss at lunch. "Right," she agreed. "’Cause, hey. We’re vamps. The demon’s always there. Always wanting a fight." 

Despite himself, Spike had to forgo his posture for a minute to grin at her. She had said we’re vamps, and the notion was heartwarming.

He was back to himself before Slater could open his mouth. 

"Can’t argue with a Slayer," he rationalized. "But I’m not gonna do it. I’m a good boy, Albert. Right and proper. If you want me to stay a good boy, I’d suggest you bugger the bloody hell off. Wouldn’t want to do something…oh, I dunno…monstrous." He pulled back for a minute as though to let the man go, then stopped. "’Course, I do have the chip out now, which means I got me ‘bout twenty of these to make up for." 

"Twenty of what?" 

Dumb question. 

Slater’s head snapped back hard at the impact of the punch, jolting and slamming against the stonewall as he was released; discarded like an unwanted doll. Spike snickered, turned to his audience with a menacing glare, and indulged a small bow. 

It took Slater only seconds to recover, his eyes searching out Giles, who stood in the back of the crowd, a grave look on his face. "Are you just gonna let him get away with this?" he snapped. 

The Watcher shrugged indifferently. "I see no cause for alarm." He turned to walk away, favoring Spike with a wink. 

Spike broke out in what had to be the most goofy-happy look on the planet, saluting Giles’s retreating form with endless gratitude. "’ll be here all week," he told the audience, grabbing Buffy’s hand and motioning for her to take a curtain call. She shook her head furiously. "Try the veal." He turned to Zack, who was grinning like a lunatic, and nodded toward the Hall. "Come on. Tummy’s making all kinds of rumblies." 

"Mine, too," he agreed. "Though after that, I feel like toasting. Tell me, what kind of wine goes with Captain Crunch?" 

"That was something else," Buffy said, coming back to herself. "You do realize that you probably just—" 

"Really, don’t care." Spike shrugged. "People are gonna talk regardless, and I wagered prats to the like of Ferris might be hankering for a bit of the old retribution. It’s to be expected. I get that. Hell, I deserve it after what I…" 

Zack gave him a warning look, and he obligingly dropped it. 

"Anyway, you wanted me to act normal, pet. What exactly was abnormal ‘bout what I just did?" 

Buffy considered for a minute, but there wasn’t much to consider. In the end, he hadn’t done anything remotely out of the ordinary. He had stood up for his family, he had made idle threats, and, yeah, he had punched the bastard, but that was almost to be expected. Even with the chip, he had been known to randomly lash out, pain be damned. 

There was nothing to reprimand. He had been Spike, no questions asked. 

And she couldn’t ask for anything more. 

Spike grinned when she grinned, stepping forward to capture her lips in a brief celebratory kiss. "Nothing," she agreed when they pulled apart. "Not a damn thing." 

"Uh, guys?" Zack asked. "Not to interrupt, but…" 

They glanced up to him. 

"Breakfast?" 

"Breakfast," they agreed. 

*~*~*

Giles found them in the Great Hall after again braving the crowd, which had thankfully dissipated since the Slater confrontation. They were just finishing up breakfast, talking quietly with no impending disaster on the front. The Watcher’s eyes narrowed but there was a small smile on his face. Despite all the recent badness, it was good seeing them interact. Seemingly oblivious to everything that happened around them—especially to the excited chattering that carried through the corridors. If Spike was at all concerned with his current status as Public Enemy Number One, he hardly let it shine through. 

The scene was poignant: Buffy sat partially in Spike’s lap, laughing quietly at something Zack had said. Spike grinned at her dotingly, absently caressing her stomach under her shirt. A few seconds passed and he rolled his eyes at Zack, walloping him good-naturedly with his free hand. 

It took a minute for anyone to notice his presence, but Zack grinned when he saw the Watcher and waved him over. "Hey, G-Man!" he said. "What’s happening?" 

Giles rolled his eyes. "God, I already have to put up with Xander and that odious nickname," he complained. "I really expected more from you, Zack." 

Buffy laughed. "I wouldn’t," she advised. "Look who he hangs around." 

"You’re killing me, love," Spike said good-naturedly, scarffing down what was left of his hash browns. "God, I’d forgotten what a good spot of violence does to a bloke’s appetite." 

"Good spot?" Zack asked skeptically. 

"Well, yeah gotta admit, Zangy, we did have a good go-‘round." 

"As highly entertaining as this is," Giles said, removing his glasses before realizing that there really was no point for an impromptu cleaning session other than habit. "I came down here to ask that you all conclude your brunch as quickly as possible. Kelly has been beside herself with worry for an hour now, and she—" 

"Worry?" Spike asked, all humor dropping from his face. 

"Well, you did manage to give everyone quite a fright."

"Yeah…" He glanced down and shook his head. "Sorry ‘bout that. I just…" 

Buffy smiled comfortingly and tightened her arms around his middle. "It’s okay," she whispered. "We’ll get—" 

"—through this, I know, love. Got the sheet music and am slowly memorizing my part." He smiled weakly at her, his previous disposition drained at the reminder of everything that had caused the confrontation in the hall. "I just…I’m still afraid that…" 

"Hey, like I said, I can take you, man," Zack said with an equally weak grin, though his frailty was more in the namesake of injury. "So if you decide to go all grrrr…argh…again, well, I can’t be held accountable for the consequences." 

"Besides," Buffy said with another reassuring squeeze, "you totally held it together out there with Slater." 

"Think that’s just because I don’t give a sodding rip if I tear the prat’s head off." 

The Slayer knew instinctively that she should scold him for his lack of candor, but found there wasn’t anything to do but agree with his indifference. Thus, she only offered another smile and pecked his cheek with a grin. "We should really go let Kelly know that all is good," she murmured. 

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "I don’t…I’m worried…" 

"Oh, get off it, already!" Zack said, jumping to his feet. "If anything, you owe it to Kel and Rosie to see them." 

"You’re not worried that the five of us in an enclosed space might spell wonkiness?" 

"Well…" Buffy and Zack exchanged glances. Despite fervor, no one could deny the apprehension surrounding the imminence of the reunion. Every time the five had been together, something of the bad had occurred. Granted, things seemed to be under control now, but getting everyone together was the real test of faith.

They wouldn’t be able to begin the healing process without that step. 

Spike turned to the Slayer at her silence, eyes wide with question. The look did her in, and she smiled her kindness, brushing his lips in a brief kiss of reassurance. "We’ll be fine," she murmured. "I promise. And you do need to see them." 

"Right…" 

There would be no more arguing. They stood simultaneously, draping napkins over chairs and downing what was left of the celebratory wine. 

"Do we need to clean up the mess?" Spike asked. He was definitely nervous if he was offering to tidy up after himself, especially at a place that was not home. 

"Nope, Hogwarts has house elves for that sort," Giles said, earning a sharp indignant look at his failure to assist the delay tactic. "This place is like a well-oiled machine…if not a little dated. Now come on." 

Together, Buffy and Zack managed to drag Spike through the doors. 

"What ‘bout Red?" he asked softly, pulling away from his friend and wife, eyes cast downward. "Has…does she…" 

"Kelly spent some time with her," Giles acknowledged. "Willow is a brave girl, and she…well, to her credit, she understands. She is, of course, devastated…and it might be wise if you two kept your distance for the time being. I simply don’t know what to expect with this place." 

Zack frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"I am not entirely convinced that the events circulating recent events…everything including Slater’s reappearance, Darla and Drusilla’s arrival, and Spike’s…episode…everything seems to be connected." The Watcher deliberately left out reference to the accusations of infidelity; while reactions might have been tenderized to the touch, he had to conclude that the confrontation between Zack and Kelly had always been inevitable. "Think about it. Everything has a supernatural tie. Slater was most assuredly raised: of that I have no doubt. Darla and Drusilla were also called back from the beyond. And Buffy…your…reaction to…" 

The Slayer leaned comfortingly into her husband’s shoulder and nodded shamefully. 

"There is a great deal of mystical energy in circulation. I have reason to believe that your connection, as well as your…well, uhm, logicality might have been hazed by the more potent magic." Giles was doing his absolute best to avoid Zack’s eyes. "Your vampiric ties should have been able to overlook whatever earthly doubts you were having. And Spike…though your demon reacted as it was supposed to, I think that certain aspects were highlighted. And—" 

"So, in short, something’s playing us," Buffy reasoned. "Making us act this way." 

"Well, yes and no. I believe whatever brought Slater, Drusilla, and Darla back and—well—gathered them in one location, is reacting particularly sensitively to the heightened emotions that are in circulation." Giles stopped shortly and deadpanned on his Slayer and her husband. "Don’t get me wrong. My job is not to reassure you. What happened was very much you. Spike’s reaction was normal and unavoidable, given the circumstances. I just have never seen anything like it…not many mated vampires have the relationship you two have… Spike didn’t react that way when Angelus and Dru—" 

Spike shrugged self-consciously. "I wasn’t ever mated to Dru," he murmured. "Buffy’s—erm—my first." 

Buffy looked him, more than surprised. "What?" 

Spike glanced up and shrugged, a small grin tickling his lips. "And my bloody only. Don’t look so surprised, sweetheart. Way of the world." 

The Watcher was also staring at him, bluntly shocked. "Oh…well…I…erm. That certainly does explain a little more. However, I believe that the after-effects…the inability to thoroughly school the demon…that is in reaction to the generalized atmosphere. The demon has gotten a taste of freedom, and its environment is currently encased in evil. Therefore, outbreaks such as the one this morning are to be expected. And—" 

Spike froze dead in his tracks. "Bloody expected?! Then why in God’s name are you taking me to see the people who set it off?" 

"Because until you confront it, you will not be able to defeat it," Giles rationalized. "The four of you share a potent connection…one I do not understand. And as long as you are separated, you are vulnerable. Your personal issues must be sorted before we even have a hope to finding out what’s going on." They stopped in front of Zack and Kelly’s room, the Watcher motioning for the man to open the door. 

"You have to do this," Giles told Spike, whose eyes were again watering. 

"I just…" He trailed off painfully. "if I lose control again…if I hurt them…I won’t be able to live with myself." 

"I know," he replied softly, voice lowering so that even the Slayer couldn’t hear. "And I’m prepared for that. We all are. But I don’t believe Buffy will allow you to fall so drastically again." 

Spike had no difficulty deciphering the Watcher’s meaning. He nodded and allowed himself to be ushered through the doors. Then he was inside—standing just feet away from the second and third most important females in his life—and he couldn’t help the way his heart leapt into his throat. 

Metaphorically speaking, of course. 

"Uncle Spike!" Rosie squealed, rushing over to him. For the first time since their encounter in the hallway, he let himself look at the child, and was overwhelmed with what he saw. While her skin was patchy in some places, and there was a telling cut on her forehead, she appeared mostly and normal…and not at all afraid of him. 

"Rosie…" he mumbled unintelligently, wrapping his arms around the girl. "Oh God, Bit, I…" 

"You didn’t go for a walk!" 

"What?"

"You were going to go for a walk…I saw it." 

Spike glanced up to Kelly, who was crying soundlessly at the picture he portrayed. Once more, his heart constricted. Neither she nor her daughter looked nearly as bad as Zack, but he felt ten times worse for the damage worn on their warm, welcoming features. Like staking himself all over again. He knew it was foolish, old-fashioned sentiment, but he hated buggers who abused women, even if he had been at the end of such hatred several times. It had been different when he was an active vampire—but even in the most extreme circumstances, he had made an effort to avoid painful… 

He didn’t want to think about that. 

"Kelly…" he choked, unmoving from his position on the floor. "God, pet, I’m so sorry…" 

"Don’t be. It wasn’t—" 

"Bugger. That." 

There was a comforting hand from behind. Buffy was running her hand through his peroxide curls, and he felt himself instinctively relax to her touch. "But…" he said a minute later. "The baby. Did I…is the baby…" 

"Well," Giles offered from the doorway. "You could always listen for yourself."

Several curious glances were tossed in his direction. "Huh’s that?" 

His eyes narrowed at the four demon experts, and he had to fight the inane desire to scream, ‘DUH!’ Such would be overly disturbing and not at all enhancing to his reputation. "Spike is a vampire," he observed. "Thus he can hear the baby’s heartbeat…if the baby…well, if the lot of you would let him—" 

There was no need for further explanation. Zack grabbed Kelly’s arm and steered her over to the platinum blonde who remained on the ground with his daughter. "Listen," he said urgently, more for his own sake than his friend’s. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. "Is…is he…" 

Spike tossed a hesitant glance to Buffy. Though he had her promise of trust, he was still hesitant to put it to use. 

She smiled reassuringly. "Go ahead." 

The vampire nodded, swallowing hardly, and leaned in. He awkwardly rested his cheek against Kelly’s abdomen, and the entire room fell silent as they waited for the verdict. Spike paused thoughtfully, still too gun-shy to reel the woman in for a more effective impromptu ultrasound, and gulped when he heard a faint though very distinct thumpathumpathumpa. 

Gulped. Paused. 

And burst into tears. 

"It’s there," he gasped, nearly falling back in relief. Buffy was immediately beside him, directing his head into her shoulder as he wept his liberation. "I didn’t…the baby…he’s there, and he’s fine. Strong little bugger, he is." His eyes, shining with moisture, met Zack’s, and he grinned. "Just like his wanker of a pap." 

Zack was silent with astonishment, glee like he had never felt touching every nerve. Every lasting tip. "He’s…he’s really…" he began, unable to truly believe it. Like this moment certified the true start of his wife’s pregnancy—the beginning of the new with the acceptance of the old. "I’m…I’m really going to be a father!" 

"You already are a father," Buffy observed, though she was grinning, too. 

"But…it’s…" He was suddenly beaming with manly pride. "I’m gonna have a son! There’s going to be a BOY in my family! A little Zack running around. A—" 

"So much for the ‘let the baby’s gender be a surprise’ thing," Kelly teased. 

"Oi! Wasn’t my—" 

"No, Dru’s the one that spilled the beans," she acknowledged, lightly tapping her stomach. "Hear that? You’re a boy!" 

"Dru spilled more than that," Zack said, momentarily coming down from his high. "I guess we really owe her." 

Spike frowned. "Huh’s that?" 

"She’s the one who told us that our stupid assumption was…well…stupid." 

Spike’s eyes widened as he fought to his feet, helping Buffy up as well. "She told you that…that’s why…" He shook his head, astounded. "I don’t get it." 

"It was a mocking thing," Buffy said. "She was making fun of us for…" She trailed off when she noted the slightly hurt look coloring her husband’s face, and immediately knew the cause. "She had no reason to lie to us…and, oh, stop it! I believed you, too. When I…when I bit you, I poured everything I had into…and then you bit me and I knew…I felt everything you were feeling. I sensed everything…" 

"Thought you came to it by yourself," he grumbled. 

"Please, let’s not do this again." 

"You needed my loop of an ex to reassure that—" 

"Spike…" Buffy sighed and leaned into him. "It was my fault, okay? And I get it. I felt…I felt everything…when I bit you. I felt your frustration and anger, and I know I’m the…I know what I did was wrong, and entirely my fault, and that I should’ve known without Dru. I should’ve just known. I get that. I understand…" She ran her hand over the mark in his throat. "I felt it…" 

When he still refused to relax, she leaned in and brushed a kiss over the mark. Instantly, the harsh demeanor fell, and Spike cooed with a wave of pleasure. 

Zack and Kelly glanced to each other. "Reason number twenty-nine," they said in unison. 

Spike and Buffy immediately broke apart and frowned at them. "What?" 

"Never mind." Morris stepped forward, running a nervous hand through his hair. "So, we’re all right? All of us? Even with the stupidity that is me and Buffy?" 

Spike instinctively furrowed a bit at the insinuation of there being a ‘Zack and Buffy’, but his demon instantly quelled with the telltale squeeze of his hand. The Slayer had seen that coming, obviously. They all had.

"Yeah," he agreed hoarsely. "Right as rain. Really thing, muddy rain, but…" He trailed off, looking at Kelly. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

She smiled warmly. "I’m okay. Really okay. So okay, point of fact, that I’m ready to kick your ass for scaring me to death this morning." 

He winced. "Yeah, I’m sorry. Had a rough night, and not of the pleasurable sort." A smirk was tossed randomly in the Slayer’s direction, and she flustered by instinct and walloped him. "These wonky dreams and visions just—" 

"No! Not that!" Kelly snapped. "The ‘go for a walk and go poof’ thing. I was so gonna murder you if you decided to kill yourself." Her words masked the genuineness of her concern, and the notion was more than touching. Spike might have poked fun at such blatant insecurity if he hadn’t noticed the worry that leaked still through her eyes. 

Worry that he had put there. 

"I’m sorry," he whispered again. "I just…didn’t want to…hurt you. Any of you." 

"You won’t. We’re fine." 

"You’re a mess. The lot of you are." 

"Hands down for Mr. Ego," Zack teased. 

"Yes…erm…about that…" The entire room was again directed to Giles, who stood still in the doorway. "I had a discussion with Dumbledore about that. He said that no one bothered to check in with Hogwarts’s residential nurse, Madame Pomfrey. Evidently, she has the ability to heal whatever ailment you have within seconds. I really don’t understand why—" 

A groan rang throughout the room.

"Oh God," Kelly grumbled.

"We’re dumb," Zack agreed. "I’ve been trying to act manly and…okay. Who votes for medical wing now?" 

"Sod the voting," Spike said, reaching over to take Rosie into his arms. "Just point me in the right direction, Rips. Gotta get these prats stitched up." 

They were lost down the hallway before the Watcher could even form a reply, Zack’s hot-aired retort sounding through the still corridor, "Prat? Who are you calling a prat? Just you wait until I’m all healed, Bloody. Then we’ll see who the prat is." 

Giles sighed, though there was a smile on his face. "Well…that went well."

"Wow," Zack gasped as he lay on the table. 

"What?" Spike said coming to stand before him after Madame Pomfrey walked out. 

"I can lay here and it not hurt. It’s… It’s nice." 

"Cute," Buffy said carrying an all healed up Rosie. 

"How long do you have to lie here?" Kelly asked walking over to join the congregation. 

"As long as I want. I think that I might actually take a nap. Couldn’t get much sleep last night." 

"Zack," Kelly growled as their daughter burst into a fit of giggles. 

"Fine. She said about a couple hours. She decided that it might be easier to regrow my ribs instead of healing them. Somebody shattered them," he said giving a glare at his best friend. 

"But all better?" Rosie asked. 

"Yeah, Daddy’s all better," Zack said with a smile. "We’re all better." 

"Zack," Kelly said leaning over and giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Would you mind if I go put Rosie down for a nap. We’ve had an exciting morning and I’m sure she could use one." 

"No," she said squirming in her aunt’s arms. 

"Geez," Buffy said containing the child. "If she moves like this at four, I don’t know what we’ll do when she’s a teenager." 

"Hey," Spike said gruffly as he bent his head down to face the child’s. "Are you causing trouble?" 

The girl immediately stopped her fussing as she bashfully hid her face in Buffy breasts. "Nooo," She replied with a smile. 

"Looks like trouble to me." 

"Never, Uncle Spike," She said innocently as she unburied her curl covered face. 

He gently swiped the hair behind her ear as he said, "You better not cause trouble; I’m liable to tickle you." 

Rosie giggled as she squirmed. "No. Aunt Buffy, save me!" 

"I will Sweetie. I won‘t let the big bad Tickle Demon get you," the Slayer said dramatically. 

"Is there actually a Tickle Demon?" Kelly couldn’t help but ask. 

"You know," Zack said pondering. "It wouldn’t surprise me." 

Spike gave his bedded friend a nod. "Me neither. Might’ve heard if one back ’round the forties." 

"Ahem," Buffy said mildly annoyed. "It’s hard to fight off the Tickle Demon when he doesn’t play the game. A damsel in distress is getting bored here." She bounced the girl up and down a couple of times for good measure. 

"Oh," Spike said arching brow before beginning the game again. "I’m going get yeah—" 

"Sorry, but someone’s got to be the big bad Mommy," Kelly said walking between Buffy and Spike. "But that whole thing about giving her a nap, was actually true. Not just a statement to inspire a Tickle Monster incident." 

"Demon, Momma," Rosie clarified. "A Demon." 

"Geez, Kel," Zack mocked. "Get it right." Then he looked up at Spike. "The sad thing is that we’ve taught her that there’s a difference in her four little years." 

"Nap," Kelly said as she pretended to be annoyed. She put her hand s on her hips and began to tap her foot, but the giant grin on her face couldn’t cover the truth. 

"Here," Buffy said holding on to the girl. "I’ll go with." 

Kelly smiled, but teased all the same. "What Buf? Like I can’t put her down for a nap? Where were you these past four years?" 

"Ha," the Slayer replied sarcastically. "Besides, I’ve put her down for naps. Granted, Spike didn’t let her sleep, but I got her down all the same." 

"Hey, don’t blame me," Spike said wide-eyed when both parents gave him a look. "She’s making it up." 

"Bad Spike," Rosie giggled. 

"Uncle Spike," Zack automatically correct. "Go on," he motioned to Buffy and Kelly. 

"Well?" Kelly said folding her arms and arching her brows at the Slayer. 

"I just meant that… that you might need a little help since you just got mended. And…she’s really rowdy this afternoon." She nodded at her statement before adding. "And…and she might get super rowdy and I might have to take her down. You know. With my Slayer-vampire strength." 

Zack couldn’t help but laugh. "You think Pigtails is going to take Kelly down?" 

"It could happen," she pouted as she clutched the girl ever tighter. 

"Buffy," her husband said with a twinkle in his eyes. The way her lip came out was so adorable that he almost couldn’t stand it. 

"Fine," Kelly said before Spike could lean over and nibble on his wife. "You can go play with her, but make sure she gets a nap in an hour or so. I had some laundry to do anyways." She then turned to the platinum vampire. "Not to sound mean, but she needs sleep. So you can’t play with her." 

"What?" he said with genuine offense. 

"No. Nothing bad, but you get her all… rowdy," she said stealing Buffy’s description. "She needs sleep. I don’t think she’s ever napped under your watch." 

"She has," he said eyes getting wide. 

"Spike," she reprimanded. "Do you need a nappy too?" 

"No," he pouted. 

"OK," Kelly gave him a hug. She then leaned down and gave her husband another kiss. "You be a good boy." 

"Spike," Buffy whispered calling him over. "Maybe you should stay here with Zack since that lady isn’t in the room. I think that it might be safer since she said that he could have a bad reaction to the medicine." 

"She did? I don’t remember her saying that." 

"You must have not been paying attention," Buffy quickly added. 

"I did too!" Spike said defensively. 

"That’s OK, honey. Just stay here until the doctor comes back in. Ready Kelly?" 

Zack could have sworn that he saw his wife wink when she looked up at the Slayer. "All set. See you later, guys," she said as she pulled away from her husband’s reach and walked toward the door. 

Buffy gave her husband a kiss and Rosie also gave both her father and uncle ample affection before they started toward the door. 

Once all the women left the room, the two men spent a few awkward minutes avoiding each other’s gaze. Finally on one of their continuous visual sweeps of the room, their eyes locked. 

"Hey," Zack said lowly as his friend offered a single nod. Neither one knew what to say nor if it was yet time. 

After a couple more minutes, Zack decided to break the silence. "You think the they might have done this on purpose? You know, the getting us alone together." 

"No. The Slayer wouldn’t jus go and trick me like that." As Zack arched his brows in response, the vampire added, "Probably did, little minx." 

"That’s what I was beginning to wonder. They probably want us to try and talk." Zack gave him an honest look when he said. "But we don’t have to if you aren’t ready yet." 

Spike swallowed hard. He was a bit nervous, but he knew that Giles was right. They were going to have to get past these hurdles before they could get on the road of recovery and simply beat the evil before them now. "Yeah. I can talk." He searched around the room and dragged a chair beside the man’s bed. 

Zack gave a little nod when Spike pulled out his nicotine sticks and lit one in his mouth. The Cockney sighed, but placed one in the other man’s mouth and lit it up. "Thanks," Zack sighed as he exhaled his first puff of smoke. 

That was all the words spoken for another few minutes. Finally Spike said into the quiet air. "Hey, Zangy. I said that I could talk, but nothing ‘bout starting this conversation. You’re Mr. Touchy Feely, so you can do the honors." 

"Mr. Touchy Feely?" Zack was still a little quiet after the comment, but after another drag he said. "You know I should have known better. You talk to your cigs about half the time. Hell, sometimes you even name them after people you wanted to hit. I’m sure you went through at least a dozen cartons of Xander’s." 

"I went through a couple Zangy boxes too," Spike said with a grin. "But I think I’m closer on getting back at you for the times you teased then Harris." 

"I just… don’t know why I had to jump to so many conclusions. I know that I put those ideas in Buffy’s mind." 

"The Slayer doesn’t believe anything against her own will," Spike admitted. 

"Yeah, well still. I know. I know. We’re all blaming ourselves about what happened. All four of us." 

"I think I win," Spike said. 

"You see," Zack said giving him a long look. "I don’t. I think out of the four of us, you get the prize for the least blame in the matter. You might have lost control and almost killed us…" They both flinched as the words were spoken. "But you were always trying to do your best by us all. Me and Kel shouldn’t have let you get caught up in our personal problems." 

"I don’t get how you all can just forgive me like that," Spike said, snapping his fingers. 

"Because it’s hard trying not to forgive someone else when you can’t forgive yourself, isn’t it?" When he saw the look on Spike’s face he added. "That’s why you already forgave me, right?" 

Spike slowly nodded. "Point goes to Zangy, for insight." 

"Thanks," he sarcastically replied. "You know how they say that hindsight is always 20/20. Well, why can’t they make it that good to begin with? Then we would have all this crap." When Spike gave him an arched brow he continued. "No. What I’m saying is that I understand how this was really a lot of me and Kelly’s problems. Yeah, you and the Slayer had some too. Some that I think you are just now beginning to deal with. I remember back there the look you gave when she said the you both were vampires." 

"You do?" Spike said in shock.

"You’re my best friend. Hello. I’ve heard you go on about the issue a few times. That and I knew how she hardly ever admitted it. I was pissed at Slater, but I still had my eye on you. Not cause I thought you would lose it, but I didn’t know how much strength you had in you. Fighting your inner demon sounds like it takes a lot out of you." 

Spike had to laugh. "True." The laugh slowly died as his face grew more somber. "Yeah, my marriage has a few issues. Seems like a few more now."

"That’s how it goes. But what I’m saying is that Kelly and I created those new ones. I’d like to believe Ripper and say that there is some spell going on in here, but I have to take the blame and put it on myself and my own insecurities." 

"Know what you mean," Spike said staring down at the ground. 

"Have you two talked?" 

"Which two?" 

"You and Buffy. Seriously." 

"Yeah," he looked up to Zack’s hazel gaze. "It’s gonna be hard. We may never be the same." 

"You will too," Zack said without an ounce of hesitation. "You two have forever to work it out. These problems would take what? A century. Tops." 

Spike again had to chuckle. "Morris, you are one crazy git." 

"Don’t I know it. But yeah… me and Kelly talked. And I forgave her. Not just about recently either. The whole thing with Slater." 

"Really?" Spike knew how difficult this topic had always been for his friend to grasp. 

"Yup. Though I admit that I’m not quite ready to put it out of mind." 

"How so?" Spike said not exactly following. 

"Kelly doesn’t know how it happened. She remembers having a few drinks. Then the scene of waking up the morning after. Big gap." 

"Ask him." 

"He won’t tell her. Sounds like she tried constantly after that. She evens says that she was going to tell me afterwards, but he scared her into keeping quiet." 

"Can I again say, how the bloody hell were you friends with that wanker?" 

"Call me gullible," he said with a small shrug. "I knew that he had a thing for Kelly in high school, but I thought that he ended it when she chose me. That an I always had a little suspicion that he might have been gay." 

"Albert’s a fag?" he asked with growing amusement. 

"Well, he would wear some crazy clothes and… one time. I can think of this one off the top of my head. Don’t laugh," he said casting the vampire a stern look. 

"Making no promises." 

"Fine. You’ll laugh, but it always disturbed me. Well, back in the day, I was trying to get Screech to work on a science project and he got all bummed out in the girl department and stopped production. Not good for me, because it was my grade too. So, I try to find him a date in the school…" 

"Does Slater take him?" he asked with a snicker. 

"No," he replied dryly. "Actually, this is the part you’ll laugh at me. I felt bad for the guy and I put on a dress to make him think there‘s a girl who would date him." 

Spike lost all control as he burst into hysterics. He almost toppled out of his chair. "This makes three times now," he gasped as he continued to fill the room with cackles. 

"Yeah, I know," Then he quickly added under his breath, "Won’t tell you about Vegas." 

"What?" Spike said not hearing over himself. 

"Nothing. Now William, are you going to let me finish the story of not?" 

"Fine," he said still lightly chuckling sporadically. 

"Well, there I was—" 

"In a bloody dress!" Spike howled. 

"God dammit! Forget the bleeding story then. I won’t tell you how he hit on me!" Zack was so exasperated that he would have gotten up if had the ribs to. 

"What?" Spike said in shock as his laughter momentarily stopped. "He tried to pick you up?" 

"Well, first he didn’t know it was me. Then when he guessed, he still hit on me." 

"Bloody poof," he said before bursting out into laughter once more. His time his friend had to join in. 

Several minutes later, both men remembered what they were discussing. Spike spoke first. "So we beat his ass till he gives us the truth." 

"What if even he doesn’t remember? He was drunk too." 

"Dunno. Could still beat him though…" 

"Or at least mess with him a little," Zack said menacingly as they shared a mischievous grin. 

"Sounds good." 

"Spike?" 

"What?" 

"Thanks." 

"Huh?" he asked, completely bewildered. 

"Thanks for being there for Kelly when I couldn’t. She and I were dealing with our issues, but she knew that she could turn to you. Thanks." 

"Was nothing," Spike said almost blushing. He shrugged it off by saying, "She’s a good chit. Lucky man you are, Morris." 

"You too." 

"Don’t I know it." Both men spent a moment reflecting on how lucky they truly were. "Is everything gonna work out with you two?" He was genuinely worried for both adults and the children caught between. He didn’t know how any of them would handle a divorce. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he would handle it either. 

"Yeah. Kelly mentioned this morning that we might take some marriage counseling. We have the infidelity issue that she needs to forgive herself for. Then, the whole confiding issue. I think that was just her scared though. But, yeah. I’ll do anything to make sure this marriage works." 

"Know what you mean, but I don’t know what the shrink would say if we started in on our marriage woes. Yes, can you help us with my wife’s acceptance of her vampire-hood while you help me deal with my demon within." 

Zack chuckled. "Don’t know. Maybe could give you a few references." 

They both looked up as Madam Pomfrey came back in the door and walked over to the bed. "Well, it’s been a couple of hours. Let’s see if those ribs are all done." 

"Makes me sound like dinner," Zack said humored. 

She lifted up his shirt and pressed around on his chest. "Looks like you’re all set, Mr. Morris." 

"Sure he don’t need to smoke for a couple more hours? That’s how I like ‘em." 

"I like mine just dripping in barbeque sauce," Zack said smacking his lips. 

"Quite frankly," She said looking a little panicked. "I don’t know what you two are talking about, but cannibalism is not highly looked upon here." 

"No," Zack said laughing. "Even though," He paused and gave Spike a look. "Slater is back." Both men began laughing once more. 

"You can go," Madam Pomfrey said walking toward the door. "And no smoking in here gentlemen." With that, she was gone. 

"Mmm," Zack said getting up and stretching. "This is nice. Wish I had her around when I tore my knee out." 

"Ready to go?" Spike was more than eager to put the hospital setting behind him. 

"Sure," Zack said slipping his shoes on. 

The two chatted as they walked down toward their rooms. 

"You know," Zack said. "This is kinda crazy." 

"Well, we just ignore that. Hope we still get paid." 

"Not that," He said smacking his friend’s head. "Ouch," he said a second later when Spike reciprocated the motion. 

"And don’t forget it," he said with a grin. "No chip means you’re fair game." 

"Fine. But I meant us. Buddies. You and me." 

"What’s crazy ‘bout that?" Spike said trying not to let his hurt show through. 

"Not you, wanker," Zack said rolling his eyes. "The fact that we’re so close." 

"Oh," Spike said finally getting where the man was heading. "It’s only been four years and everything." 

"Exactly. I just feel like I’ve known you forever. I know that you didn’t have too many guy friends. Me, well I had Screech. He doesn’t always count as human and then Slater. And we know how he’s been over the past few years." 

"Whatcha getting at, Zangy?" 

"Well, at the risk of going all mushy and poncy: I’m really glad that we’re friends. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Spike." 

Spike wrapped an arm around the other blonde’s shoulder as they continued their walk. "You’re right. That was poncy." Then he begrudgingly admitted. "But, you’re my first real best friend. Besides the Slayer." 

"I think you might be mine too." 

"Then if we agree, what are we still doing making ourselves look like nancy-boys?" 

Zack smiled and shrugged. "Don’t know." After of few minutes of content quite walking, Zack added. "Though it’s going to be kinda hard when me and Kelly get older. I think I speak for her when I say that currently, the Slayer is her bitch." 

"You better have a good elaboration or I’m hitting you again." 

"You know. Pal. Girlfriend. Kelly thinks of Buffy as her best girlfriend. She knows that Buffy has Willow, but I the ties between Kel and Lisa were severed long ago." 

"I admit that I’ve thought ’bout it once or twice," Spike said. He had thought about it a lot actually. Him and Buffy actually discussed it a few times as they wondered how hard it would be to watch Zack and Kelly grow old and die as well as watch Rosie do the same. It was something that neither one wanted to dwell on though. 

"There is going to be a lot of jealousy if I reach seventy. You’ll be all fit and trim and I’ll probably be unable to walk." 

"If you make seventy?" The Cockney questioned his words.

"Well, living on the Hellmouth doesn’t always guarantee longevity of life. You know that." 

"True," Spike reflected. "Anyways, I think it’s time for lunch. Ribs got me thinking. Hungry Morris?" 

"And how," Zack said with a nod. With that, the two men walked on together, best friends once again. 


	17. Chapter 17

The rest of the afternoon progressed at a rate that could have nearly been construed as normal. After resolving their issues, Zack and Spike retired to the library with Giles, Anya, and Xander, who were again buried nose-deep in books. The Watcher’s revelation that the events beginning with Slater’s reappearance and concluding with Darla and Drusilla’s reanimation were connected had him in a tailspin of study. Xander was hardly one to research with any note of enthusiasm, but with the rift in his marriage and the lack of anything better to do, he found himself irrefutably drawn to the same place. 

Such, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with the vengeance demon, who was similarly doing her very best to ignore him. 

Giles glanced up as Zack and Spike entered the library, pushing his glasses back from where they had begun to topple off the bridge of his nose. "Ah," he greeted, "all better, I see?" 

"As better as one can be," Zack replied cheerily enough, deftly flexing his newly-mended muscles. "In a place where all you have to do is say ‘snap, crackle, pop’ to—" 

"End up in a grindery?" 

Several skeptical glances were tossed in Xander’s direction. His eyes widened and he held up the book he was studying. "You wanna check it out for yourself? Seriously, people. Be careful what you say at Hogwarts. This place is nuts." 

"Yeah," Spike agreed under his nonexistent breath. "I’m getting that." 

Zack arched a brow at him in silent reminder of their recent trade. Spike sighed and nodded his compliance, though the air of discomfort remained manifest, unwilling to completely leave at will. 

Spike huffed another unneeded breath and reached once more for his cigarettes, mindlessly offering one to his friend as he lit up. Correspondingly, the blonde duo ignored the sea of dirty looks they received in response to smoking in a library. While Giles—having worked with Spike quite a lot in the library setting—was used to it, the Hogwarts archives were something of the higher importance. And the platinum vampire was oddly known for starting fires. 

"Find anything useful?" the vampire asked, waving generally at the horde of opened books as he flicked his lighter away. 

That was all it took to get the Watcher back on track. He emitted a long sigh and shook his head. "There is nothing here," he grumbled, collapsing into a chair tiredly. "Nothing that I haven’t read over and over and over before. Perhaps if I could persuade Wesley to…but he and Cordelia have their hands full attempting to locate where Angelus and Darla are camped out in the castle. I never thought the day would come where a place of such historical merit would ring to me as a burden." 

"Sounds like someone needs to get sloshed," Spike observed, turning to Zack. "Y’don’t happen to know where these wizarding types keep their goods, do you? I ‘bout tore the place apart the other night when…" He trailed off obligingly, not willing to go there so soon. From the look on his friend’s face, elaboration was not needed. "Couldn’t find a sodding drop. And I don’t care who you are…there’s no way these prats can put up with the kiddies all bloody year ‘round without getting snookered every now and then." 

Zack smiled but shook his head, spreading his hands in a jest of ignorance. "I don’t know," he said. "Though I have thought the same. Life hasn’t been as carefree as it is when you can drink your problems away at Willy’s." 

"I don’t suppose you reckon some of your problems were spurned by drinking them away at Willy’s?" Giles suggested softly, not glancing up from the text. 

"There is no problem that Willy’s can’t fix," Spike snapped defensively.

"Really?" Xander asked. "Like the fundamentals of actual divorces and custody hearings?" 

"You really want that kid of yours?" Anya demanded. "He smells weird and never seems to stop running around. I suppose we could always bronze him and try to sell him to some warlocks at the Magic Box." 

"ANYA!" Xander erupted, though he didn’t look half as opposed as a caring father should. 

"That’s a right sound plan you got there, Anyanka," Spike complimented, tipping his head. 

The vengeance demon beamed at him. "Thank you! I am always thinking ahead in the field of consumer service. There are several Kenosha tribes that would pay some quality dollar to get a prebronzed sacrifice for their Pagan god." 

"Anya…" Xander said again in a tone that suggested anything but hostility. The expression on his face was now more pensive, as though he was actually considering it. 

She glanced up at him matter-of-factly. "I don’t see why you even pretend to look offended," she observed. "It is perfectly obvious that you have no affection for your son. I suppose if you discovered he wasn’t actually yours, the idea of sacrifice wouldn’t even merit a fake-concern." 

"He’s not mine?" Harris asked. 

Everyone glanced to each other skeptically. 

Anya shrugged. "I said ‘if’ and ‘you discovered.’ Nothing suspect there." She then turned and vacated the library, tossing Spike and Zack a ‘duh’ look as she passed. 

There was nothing but silence for a long minute as everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably. With everything that had come into being over the past few days, more revelations about the like were not exactly of the needed. Just when Giles was about to suggest that Spike and Zack lend a helping hand while they were there and ostensibly doing nothing, Kelly burst through the doors, reddened and more than breathless. 

"Spike!" she gasped, immediately attracting the two blondes’ attention. 

Spike’s demeanor fell to instinctive concern, and he stepped forward. "Whas’sit?" 

The woman was still a little winded, and she held up a finger, slightly keeled over—free hand supporting her weight on her knee. "It’s Buffy," she explained when she felt she could talk. "She’s—" 

There was no need for words or explanations. Not when she looked that worried and had mentioned the Slayer. Not with Angelus and a herd of vamps that were looking to cause trouble running around the halls. Not with all the wonkiness that had compiled the past few days. Before Kelly could utter another syllable, Spike had torn out of the library and was halfway up the hall. 

Zack immediately set foot to follow, but his wife placed a hand on his shoulder and halted him. At his quizzical look, her worried demeanor melted into a wicked grin. "Don’t worry," she assured him. "Spike’s a big boy. He can handle it." 

"What…" But there was no need to ask. He knew that look well. Soon, Zack was grinning, too. "What are you vixens up to?" 

Kelly shrugged innocently. "Oh…nothing…" 

"Please tell us," Xander said, glancing to Giles. "I need to know if a battle-axe is needed, or if I can really go back to this incredibly boring book filled with words that I need a thesaurus on thesauruses to translate." He paused; trading short looks between the text and the conspiring brunette. "Please give me the axe-option." 

"Sorry," she apologized. "No can do." Kelly turned to Zack. "Buffy was telling me that Spike somehow has this…this worry that things aren’t going to get back to the way they were. Like he’s afraid to touch her or…I mean, they’ve done the kissage thing, but he’s all stand-offish…like afraid to…" 

Zack nodded. "He mentioned something of the same." 

"Oh God," Xander said as he understood what had just happened. "You sent Spike off to get some loving, didn’t you?" 

"Can you really think of anyone who needs a happy right now more than Spike?" Kelly demanded skeptically, pointedly ignoring her husband’s suddenly inquisitive expression. 

Xander shook his head. "I’d rather not think about Spike and happies. Can you say bad place? I say bad place. And it’s not fair that he should get a happy when my marriage is falling apart!" 

The Watcher buried himself in the books, not wanting to consider what happened between Spike and his espoused daughter behind closed doors. The show they put on in the open was enough to fill his head with more images than any surrogate father should ever be asked to endure. 

He glanced up to Zack helplessly. "I could really use that drink."

*~*~*

Spike had never run so fast in his life. 

It was instinct alone that led him to his destination: no time to stop and second-guess himself. His mind was racing along the long list of possible scenarios he might stumble upon—the various ways he might find her. With everything that had happened in the past few days, the revelations revealed and the institutions granted, he didn’t think he could stomach losing once again. The two days that they had spent apart in anger would be forever remembered as an emotional two centuries, and they had only begun to heal. 

If something had happened to her… 

He was halfway through mentally eviscerating Angelus when his instincts propelled him to a stop outside the bedroom that they shared. Her scent lingered heavily in the hallway, and by the instinctual throbbing at his throat, he knew she was inside. A long, heavy breath hissed through his teeth. While no other scent lingered in the nearby, he found himself still hesitant. Not wanting to risk it. 

Not wanting to chance what he would find inside. 

_Slayer’s in there._

Mhmmm. Knew that. 

_You gonna stand out here all bloody day? Chance making what’s wrong worse ‘cause you don’t have the stones to see what’s on the other side of that bloody door?_

No. Definitely not. 

Spike swallowed hard and tentatively placed a hand on the handle, braced himself, and pushed the door open. The room was so dark that it took even his vampiric eyes a minute to adjust. So dark, and yet bathed in her scent. Had her essence filled the air before like it did now? He couldn’t remember. It was possible. 

A naughty thought rose to mind in the midst of his panic, and Spike was lost for a minute—unsure whether or not to allow the smirk that was tickling his lips to birth into full existence. _She had two days in here to make bloody sure the room smelled of her when I came prancing in._

Bad. Wicked. And yet oh so appeasing. He forced himself to banish the notion. 

At least until he found her. 

Spike blinked wearily as his eyes began to adjust. She was nowhere in sight. "Buffy?" 

Nothing.

"Sweetheart?" She was near, he knew that. He could feel that. However, the room offered little option in the wayward stream of surprise. The spooling dread in the pit of his stomach at last began to subside. If Buffy had been in any real danger, he would have sensed it the minute he crossed the threshold. The room offered little more than ambiguity, and he was beginning to accept the thought that he had been set up. 

And well.

By Kelly. 

Hmmm… 

"Kitten?" A hint of weary tease crept into his tone; he could not help it. "Luv, I know you’re here. No sense in hiding." 

"Who’s hiding?" 

Spike whirled around at the sound, eyes immediately finding hers. She was standing in the corner behind the doorway, looking at him as though she hadn’t seen him months. For all intents and purposes, she appeared no different than she had when she left the infirmary. Her hair was still messy from their adventures in the early morning, her blouse was dirty and wrinkled from sleeping on the dirty dungeon floor, and her jeans had definitely seen better days. While Madame Pomfrey had all but healed her minimal injury, the scar aligning her cheek remained in steadfast precision. The sight before had caused a sharp jolt of weighted remorse to shimmy up his spine, but at the moment, Spike was quite sure he had never seen anything more beautiful.

More seductive… 

Wait. What was she getting at? 

"Buffy…" He breathed her name as though it were his oxygen; the very continuance of his existence resting on its inhabitance of his mouth. It suddenly became very clear what she was up to, and he couldn’t help but grin. A game, was it? He loved games. "Kindly explain why I just winded myself to save you from a dark room." 

"Well," she said childishly. "I’m scared of the dark." 

He fought the innate temptation to roll his eyes, knowing it would have been one of the dumber things he had done in his unlife, their initial I’morning after’ conversation notwithstanding. "Yeah," he drawled. "Falling for that. 

The Slayer grinned impishly and shrugged. "Hey, it could happen. Besides, you can’t wind yourself, honey. Remember, vampire?" 

Spike smirked in turn, taking a step forward—unaware of his feet carrying him closer. Unaware of anything that was not her at the minute. "Thanks ever so," he retorted, running his tongue over his teeth as his eyebrows shot up in clear, quick suggestion. "Wouldn’t do a bloke good to forget something like that." 

Buffy nodded her agreement and moved to meet him where he was still unconsciously prowling forward. Her arms crossed primly behind her, eyes flickering with mischief that just served to turn him on even more. "I got something for you." 

"Mmmm…" His eyes broke from hers for a minute to roam the picture she presented for him, and he grinned when she shivered in turn. It never ceased to thrill him just how she reacted to every move he made. Like she was surprised that he could still want her with such fervor after everything they had been through together. "Whatever could it be?" They were close—so close—but not touching. He leaned inward to nuzzle her throat, inhaling deeply, swimming in her aroma. "I don’t suppose there’s a search involved?" 

"Depends on how you play your cards," she replied, craning her neck to allow him better access. He rumbled against her in amusement, licking a wet pathway from collarbone to her chin, eyes sparkling mischievously when they reached home once more. 

"Can see you’re in a ‘do as I do, not as I say’ mood tonight," he teased. "How am I doing?" 

Buffy closed her eyes and murmured something unintelligible. Somehow, he managed to decipher it.

"’S that so?" 

She looked at him and grinned again. "Very, very. But tonight isn’t for you…" 

"Oh really?" 

"Really." 

Spike leaned in again, breaking eye contact only when it became physically impossible to maintain it, and nibbled lightly at her throat once more. "How you figure?" 

The moan that trembled through her suggested anything but what she was inwardly begging for, but the Slayer wouldn’t be bought with such vagrant ease. In a split second, she had grasped his wrist and switched their positions, slamming him against the nearby wall and covering his mouth with her own. 

For whatever reason, her brazen behavior stunned him, and all he could do was wait prostrate at her command for seconds before surrendering with a hearty growl and returning her fervor with everything he had to offer. His hands found her hips and jerked them in time with a sharp thrust forward, groaning into her mouth at the contact. He felt her own wandering fingers thread through his hair, holding his face to her as her lips and teeth ravaged his mouth, clawing, nibbling, tasting. She never came close to drawing blood, but the thought that she might only served to increase his enthusiasm. 

When finally their mouths parted and she started skimming down his throat, sampling exposed skin to his rumbling delight, Spike regained the ability to form words. "Not…" Gasp. "That I’m…complaining…" Moan. "But what…brought…this…" 

And lost the ability in the same minute. 

"You’ve been through a lot these past couple days," Buffy replied, her own voice surprisingly calm, even with the noted exertion flushing her face. The heaving of her chest as though she needed oxygen to survive. "And I just want you to know that—" 

Abruptly, Spike seized her wrists, forcing her to inch away from him as his gaze found hers with stunning acceptance. "Sweetheart," he cooed, eyes shining like birthstones in their wake. "I…you don’t have to prove anything to me. ‘Bout trust and the like. ‘Bout getting back to where we were. I get it, love. I really do. We’ll make it there. We’ll—" 

Buffy smiled warmly and leaned inward to steal a kiss from his lips. "I’m not doing this to prove anything," she assured him. "Well…I suppose I am on a level, but it’s not about that. It’s never about proving myself or you when we…when we’re…but I love you. I love you, and I trust you…and I want you…" Her mouth skimmed up his cheek and settled to nibble at his ear, eliciting a coo of delight. "This isn’t about getting back to where we were," she continued. "We can’t do that with…but I think we could have fun on the way. Who knows…" Her tongue began tracing meaningless patterns across his vulnerable skin, and she grinned against him when he trembled in her grasp. "We might end up somewhere completely new…but I am determined of one thing, William…" 

It took a few seconds to again locate his voice. Bloody thing seemed to run to new corners every time it was confronted with pleasure—not wanting to be found. So different from his usual vocalism. "What’s…that?" 

"To. Enjoy. Every. Step. Of. The. Way." She pronounced each word articulately, sealing them with open-mouthed caresses along his throat as her hands ventured south, running a teasing lap around his clothed navel before tugging at his belt. 

Spike whimpered clumsily, eyes fluttering shut as he rested his head against the wall. A long breath hissed through his lips, searching for control—all lost when the Slayer gingerly dipped her hand into the waistband of his trousers. 

"I lied a minute ago," she told him lowly. 

She did? What? Did she expect a response? When her hand was…ooh, bugger. "Y-y-you…" He swallowed hard and forced himself to focus. "You did?" 

Buffy grinned mischievously against his throat, eyes sparkling when she finally encircled him. That reverential look on his face was worth anything. She loved watching him try to speak when overwhelmed with passion. Her fingers danced over his trembling skin, running the expanse of his length in slow, torturous circuits. "Yup." 

"H-how’s that?" 

"Tonight is all for you. Is that all right?" 

Spike’s eyes flew open at that, control soaring back in leaps and bounds. The daring note in her tone was all the incentive he required. The familiar cocky smirk curled his lips teasingly, and he flickered his brows in challenge. "Fella can’t well argue with that," he retorted snidely. His hands still rested at her hips and utilized their advantage to propel her against him once more, not waiting for her to remove her hand. "But you forgot something, pet…" 

She licked his Adam’s apple, eyes sparkling. "What’s that?" 

"If it’s all for me…" His grip on her hips tightened and he surged forward with a surprising bout of coherency, reversing their positions so she was the one at the wall and he was the one nuzzling her throat. Deft fingers skimmed along her thigh, dipping lower and playing with the button at her jeans. "That means I get to fight you…for control…" 

Buffy smiled warmly and leaned back, free hand running through his peroxide strands. "Always." 

He grinned before commanding her mouth once again, his touch soft though demanding in the same exercise of strength. His hands, never idle, pulled at her jeans until they pooled at the floor, hoisting her legs around his waist. Then he was holding her to him, supporting her backside as his free hand cleverly slipped over her thighs and buried themselves in a nest of curls. 

It was her turn to mewl and writhe, breaking away from their kiss with a heady little gasp that only served to fuel his ardor. Spike’s smile broadened. He loved seeing her like this. 

"Spike…" she moaned, arching as he began pumping. Steadily. Slowly. His goal was not to make her beg, but if she did, bonus. 

Turnabout was fair play. The hand that had wheedled in his trousers somehow remembered itself and began gliding up and down. The smile from his face melted into another rumble of pleasure, and his forehead collapsed against her shoulder, his hips moving in time with her of their own volition. His mouth again dipped to the exposed skin and lapped at her faint perspiration. Unfair that a vampire could perspire. She was still warm in death, and the notion was at times overwhelming. "God," he mumbled against her. "You’re beautiful." 

"So are you." 

He huffed indignantly. "Always trying to emasculate me," he complained in jest. 

Her hand constricted around him, earning a heady moan in turn. "Now," she breathed against his throat, moving up and down in a firm, however sluggish motion, "why would I wanna do something like that, when there are so many more…pleasurable pursuits?" 

"Dunno," he replied. "Seems you’d do yourself a right injustice." 

"Agreed." 

Spike smiled simply and brushed a surprisingly chaste kiss across her forehead before resting his own against her. "God, I love you." 

"Love you," she agreed, fingers dancing teasingly over the leaking head of his insistent need, earning a moan in turn. 

"Keep that up, pet, and this isn’t gonna last but another twenty seconds." 

"Mmmm…but what a twenty seconds." 

He responded by slipping another finger into her, stretching luxuriously and exploring as his thumb rubbed her nubbin in small, rough circles. "Come on, sweetheart," he growled against her. "Lemme in…" 

"You’re in." 

Spike smirked as his eyes narrowed, pulling out of her slightly to add physical threat to his nonchalance. "You think you’re funny, but you’re not." 

"You wouldn’t!" 

"I think the question is whether or not you wouldn’t." 

Buffy scowled at him and moved as though she intended to withdraw her touch as well, but responded instead by squeezing him tighter, earning a moan and a chuckle in the same breath. "Oooooh, yeah, kitten," he drawled lavishly. "Just like that."

"Pig." 

The smirk only deepened, hand pushing back into her with deft, antagonizing slowness. "Whas’sit you want, Slayer?" 

"Stop teasing me!" 

"What ‘appened to tonight being all for me?" He retorted mischievously. "’Sides, you’re the one who won’t unclench." 

Buffy pouted when she saw this was true, and he couldn’t resist luring that delectable lower lip into his mouth as her legs pushed his jeans down his waist until they bunched at his knees. He wasted no time positioning himself, hands finding purchase under her thighs and slightly splayed across the small of her back. He paused when he noted her eyes closed tightly, her own grip nearly digging trenches into his forearms. The sight was breathtaking—lovelier than anything he had been fortunate enough to see in the long years of his life. 

And it was his. All his. For whatever reason, the notion never failed to grasp him. Make him stop and consider what exactly he had won. What he had now and forever. What he would never, ever tire of. Every time was like the first all over again. A new experience, a new high and low, a new feeling to treasure over and over again with abundant union of new and old. 

"Buffy," he said softly as he prepared to push inside. "Look at me." 

It took a minute to realize that she had been addressed. Her breathing was labored and her eyes heavy with the most intent desire he had ever seen. The sight stole what little was left of his heart right away. "I love you." 

She smiled kindly. "You’ve told me." 

"Won’t ever stop telling you…" With a nod of punctuation, he began edging himself into the only home he had ever truly known. The encompassing welcome of her skin molding perfectly against his. The intake of her scent. It was too much. Too much and yet not enough. Spike breathed steadily, head again finding rest at her shoulder. "Can’t ever stop telling you…stop showing you…" He began moving within her slowly, setting a gentle tempo to counteract with the disaster that loomed around them. The healing hands for scars that weren’t as deep as he originally thought. Nothing could ever be so horribly mucked up that this wouldn’t be the home he knew with every return. 

"Spike…" 

His lips caressed the mark at her throat that proclaimed her as his, teasing though affectionate. They were moving together now, meeting each other for every thrust and parry. "Mmmm…" 

"The poem…tell me the poem…" 

"You want poetry now?" he mocked, licking a column up her throat 

Buffy had no cohesive reply at that; all were steadfast in their abandonment. A muffled cry tore free of her throat and she attempted to glare daggers at him for taunting her, but her gaze was overlapped with such heavy lust that she lost sight of her query. It was well in that matter for, at that scrupulous moment, Spike wasn’t looking. Finally when she was able to grasp her voice, she nodded hurriedly, projecting her hips forward in a sharp, desperate manner as something began growing in the pit of her stomach. "Always," she gasped. "Love…it…when you…poem…while we…" 

"It’s not even…mine…" 

"Don’t…oh god…care." Another powerful surge and she bucked against the wall, one hand flying behind her to find purchase on something. There was nothing but flat surface. Coherency returned, but only in spurts. "Oh God. Now, Spike. Now. Now now now. Please? Ooh, God. Please...please..." 

Suddenly he froze within her and held her to a firm standstill. Buffy all but screamed her displacement, but the hands that still danced circles at her hips, the tongue that still lapped her unnatural perspiration bid her time to wait. He was breathing steadily against her—trying to regain himself long enough to give her what she wanted. Always working to give her what she wanted. 

Then his voice was at her ear, and she was melting all over again. She loved it when he did this. 

"‘Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,’" he murmured as he began to move again in slow, shallow thrusts. "‘And sorry I could not travel both.’" One hand came up again, gently brushing sweat-laced hair from her face. Amazing. Again, his thoughts traveled to the knowledge that he had never known the touch of a vampire that could protrude such heat. The mechanics of cold against cold. How was it that she was able to permeate the offensive glance of being alive? That warmth he had initially craved was still there. Buried within reason. He had long ago settled that it was because she was Buffy. The Slayer. His...but perhaps there was more to it than that. "‘And be one traveler, long I stood, and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth.’" 

They changed together; they always did. Fired in passion and fueled with love. Amazement down every corridor, awaiting him as he crossed every bend. Buffy’s nails dug into his skin as she propelled herself forward, meeting him for everything, greedily swallowing the look of unabridged ecstasy that flashed across his face. That blessed fight for control. The feel that it would still be forfeited. After all was said and done. Still lost to the whim of something more powerful than winning. 

When it became too much for him, Spike seized her hands and brought her them to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on the inside of each wrist. Her body quivered at his attention before rippling with influence when he spoke against her skin. "Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim." Their eyes locked meaningfully for a brief moment of stretched repose, even as they moved together hungrily. "Because it was grassy and wanted wear; though as for that the passing there, had worn them really about the same." 

A delicate thrust in, burying himself to the hilt. An ageless dance of back and forward. Spike moaned as her Slayer muscles contracted, dipping again his brow to rest against her shoulder, emanating cool breaths onto her trembling skin. 

"And…both…that morning…" Spike gasped, hips swirling to strike her at a new angle with every plunge. His hands found her still-clothed breasts and outlined her nipples through the stretched fabric, watching her face hungrily as her muffled cries escalated to capacious proportion. "Equally lay…in…leaves…" A breaking pant for air. "…no step had…trodden black. Ooohhhhh." She couldn’t tell if that was a part of the poem or his eager response to her blunt teeth at his shoulder. The next instant, she decided she didn’t care. His attentions had honed-sharpened beyond the brink of rapture with every thrust. Faster and faster, and somehow remaining sweetly soft despite the potency behind his touch. "I…kept…the first…for another day… Yet…yet knowing how…" He shuddered against her with a fighting strain for control, and she knew she could not hold on much longer. The force of his body into hers along with the rumblings he made at her ear were growing dangerously close to pushing her off the edge. The fight for coherency—for thought—for the giving of what she wanted was too much to bear. 

"Spiiiiiiike," she moaned, earning a particularly sharp thrust in return. "I—" 

"Way!" he growled, finding his footing as his hand snaked between them, again seeking out her bundle of hypersensitive womanly nerves. Found with expert ease. Twisted and pulled and caressed and teased until she couldn’t take it anymore. "How way leads on…to way…I doubted…oohhh pet…I doubted if I…should…ever…come back." 

That was it. She was tumbling into oblivion, crying her jubilation for all the world to hear. Blinding spots of white against an otherwise starless night. The sound that tore at her throat was familiar; captured in that blissful moment of complete acceptance. Of knowing where she belonged without question. Her fangs emerged thoughtlessly, finding her claim mark with a victorious roar of release. The coppery taste of blood against the tongue, fired with the reaction it provoked. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on. Buffy heard his distant snarl of answer, felt his fangs seize her in instant retribution as she milked him for everything he was worth, and yet remained blissfully ignorant of everything outside the waves of pleasure. Provoked, calmed, and provoked again. Growing and receding all within an instant inside spectacular divinity. 

Forever passed before she returned to herself. Clutching onto him in the unspoken understanding that he would tug her back to her senses should she find herself unduly lost. Heavy breaths painted the air with encompassing serenity. The safety she should feel-here of all places. Here on the very ground she lamented. Here encircled in his arms, with his face buried in her throat, lapping her blood with sensual eroticism in the embracing cool of her calm. 

The world tumbled back to itself, little by little. Minute details she thought surely had been blocked out of existence forever. The feel of his hands still caressing her cooling body and every delightful shudder that followed. The projected intimacy with him still inside her. The subtle caress of his lips as he found her temple, pulled back, and smiled kindly into her eyes. 

"‘I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by.’" A stilled minute suspended forever in time. He leaned down to kiss the tear skidding down her cheek, finding her hand to embrace with a warm squeeze. A flood of wealth—all the riches that the night could possibly afford. He was right. There was no comparison. "‘And that has made all the difference.’" 

Buffy studied him silently. Somewhere in the boundaries of their trade, they had indefinitely switched. This had been about reassuring him, and yet in the end, it was she who needed the promise of forever. The same she had given him time and time again, the same she had been given into turn. Given but never really believed. 

The words weren’t his. They never were, despite consistency in recitation, but they might as well be. 

"Do you mean it?" Any other person, and she would rather stake herself than allow the neediness in her tone to leak through. 

"Always," he answered before she could allow herself to dwell. "I always mean it. I wouldn’t go back to the way things were before…for anything, love. God, if you don’t know that by now…" 

"I know." Buffy smiled and brushed her lips across his. "I just…sometimes…I…" 

He nodded, elaboration not needed. "I know." 

They were silent for long minutes, their foreheads resting against each other, arms captured in a loose, reassuring embrace. The few breaths that he indulged tickled her mouth into another soft smile, and when she found herself entirely composed, the Slayer pulled away slightly and quirked her head. "So we’re okay?" 

"Okay?" he repeated incredulously. "If that wasn’t okay…damn, pet. The unlife doesn’t get any better than this." 

"That’s what you think." 

Spike quirked a brow. "Oh really?" 

Buffy nodded and unwound her legs from his waist, pulling back until he completely slipped out of her. The rumble of complaint against her chest warmed her with completion she had not thought possible, even if the words that spilled from her mouth suggested anything but. "Oh hush," she berated. "I’m going to make this very worth your while." 

"What do you…" Spike’s words froze in his throat when he saw her withdraw a shiny pair of handcuffs from the back pocket of her discarded jeans. A low moan rumbled through his throat. "Bloody hell." 

"Oh yeah. So not through with you yet." 

He grinned. "Didn’t know you had a bondage fetish, pet. We’ve wasted too many years avoiding—" 

Buffy rose once more to her feet, unconsciously caged by two powerful arms that were propped against the wall on either side of her head. "Do you remember…years ago, you asked me if I trusted you…" 

Spike cocked his head curiously but did not answer, tacitly waiting for more prompt. 

The Slayer sighed. She really hated discussing reminders of the time when they had been together but not. When she had abused him so thoroughly, but such was important for the point she was trying to make. "We were…we had just…we were at your crypt and…" 

A low grin tickled his lips and he nibbled lightly at hers. "You’re so bloody adorable," he decided. "We shag like bunnies and you’re still—" 

"Spike, I’m trying to…" She sighed. "Do you—" 

"Yeah, love…I remember." 

"You asked if I even liked you…" Buffy sighed. "And I do. I like you a lot." 

"Should hope so."

"I mean…you’re my friend, Spike. I love you to death, but you’re…you’re probably the closest friend I have." She ducked her head to escape his awe-inspired stare. Such had never occurred to him. "Then you asked if I trust you. And I trust you. So…" She pressed the cuffs into his hands. "Hold these." 

"Why…what…" Spike’s head flew back as her lips again found his throat and began to slowly skate down. Only this time she followed her mouth’s descent, eventually dropping to her knees before him. "What are you…ooohhhhh…" 

"Hope you’ve cleared your schedule," Buffy murmured, licking her lips and tossing him a purely impish grin. "’Cause you’re not going anywhere for a long…" Lick. "Long." Nibble. "Time." 

There was definitely no arguing with that.

"If things aren’t back to normal by the time he gets out of there," Zack informed Giles, pouring a tumbler full of Bourbon and sliding the bottle down to his grasp before toasting to an imaginary bartender. "I bloody well give up." 

"Me, too." 

Things had been suspiciously quiet for the past hour or so, no one wanting to dare venture into the residential hall. Kelly had been having a hell of a time keeping Rosie occupied after she awoke from her nap, ready and practically bouncing with enthusiasm to see her uncle and renew their game of Tickle Demon. Xander assumed the responsibility in his absence, though he wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Spike, even when he threatened to bring Stephen along for the excursion. 

When Spike and Buffy were conspicuously absent from dinner that night, the gossip mill began flying again, studiously avoiding anything but the obvious. Kelly and Zack shared their own rumors with a note of amusement. Evidently, the only acceptable explanation was that the platinum blond had again lost control and had dusted his wife, come to his senses, and dusted himself out of grief. 

Even Slater found this turn of events highly unlikely, and he spent the entirety of the meal sulking in the corner. 

The day, for everyone else, had been compiled with more meaningless research and the occasional trip to Willow’s room to see how she was. She wasn’t really in the mood for visitors and wound up kicking most everyone out as they came and went. While she assured everyone that she did not blame Spike for Oz’s death, the story her eyes told was much different than the one spilling from her mouth. She was barricaded in grief, and had absolutely no intention of withdrawing. Especially when rumors of her lover’s murderer were dancing merrily down the hall, and she knew every one of them to be a fallacy. 

Feeling his bliss after what he had done served only to rub salt into the wound, even if it was not his intention. 

An hour had passed since dinner, and after much persuasion, Dumbledore revealed where his teaching staff retired for snaps after a hard day’s work. They had only been seated for a few minutes, but already time seemed to be flying. 

It was at that precise moment that Spike walked into the room. His usually sleek hair was rumbled into a mess of platinum curls, and the expression on his face dazed and distant, a soft, secretive grin on his face. He didn’t even seem to register the presences of others around him. Instead, he walked solemnly to a two-person table on the other side of the bar and sat down, staring endlessly into nothing. 

Zack rolled his eyes, glanced to Giles, and put down his drink. "Spike?" 

No answer. 

"Spike?" 

No answer. 

"SPIKE!" 

The grin on Spike’s face broadened, and his dancing eyes met his friend’s with endless enthusiasm. Yet he did not reply. 

Zack couldn’t help it at that. He grinned. "You feeling better?" 

"Dunno," he replied. "Could always go back an’—" 

"I think you’ve worn away your ‘lounge-away-for-the-day’ pass for good," his friend observed. 

"Oh, we weren’t lounging." 

"I know, but the last thing we need around here is the male version of Anya, sharing all his—" 

"Zack!" Giles said loudly. 

"What’re the two of you doing getting pissed, anyway?" Spike asked, rising slowly to his feet. "Don’t you have wonkiness to be researching? Come now! No rest for the wicked." 

Zack snickered. "Says he who—" 

"Oh, bugger it all to hell," the Watcher snapped, hopping off his stool. "Trust someone who has done nothing to assist any of the research all day to make me feel guilty for taking a break. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the library." 

Spike grinned with endless self-satisfaction, leaning against the bar as Zack finished his drink and hopped to his feet. 

"You are feeling better, I hope?" he asked as they started walking down the hallway. 

"Oh yeah," Spike agreed. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the world. "Though parts if me are kinda sore. Slayer has all these—" 

"Really, don’t wanna hear about it." 

He quirked a brow. "Somebody is jealous," he sing-songed, merrily avoiding any confrontation with his demon. Needless to say, all worries of that nature were infinitely quelled. Such resided along the list of the Slayer’s many talents. 

"The only jealous one around here is Rosie," Zack retorted. "Someone stole her uncle’s attention away from her all day. I swear, Kel and I about had to hogtie her from getting her poor little self scarred for life." 

He chuckled. "Where is the Bit? Gotta make sure she knows that she’s still my number one gal. She—" 

It took a minute to realize what had happened. A loud gasp rang through the air and he turned to find Spike sprawled on the floor, clutching at his chest as he heaved for breaths. A beat passed before his body began convulsing; sharp, violent jolts that shook him to his very core. Zack froze in paralyzed horror, and his eyes went wide. When he regained his senses, he immediately dropped to his friend’s side, grasping his shoulder to school him to stillness. 

When finally the jerks subsided, Zack heaved a breath of relief and immediately pulled the vampire to his feet. He was too basked in liberation to note the widened surprise of the peroxide blonde’s eyes, the clutching still at his chest as he heaved for gasps of air that he wasn’t supposed to need. All was on a need-to-know basis. Spike often did the same for effect or for the recollection of what he once was. It generally didn’t mean anything. 

"Spike!" Zack said sharply. "Are you all right, man? Are you…" He trailed off when his eyes roamed upward of their own volition, landing instinctively on one of the mirrors that lined Hogwarts’s endless halls. "You’re…hey, did you know you’re reflecting?" 

"Zangy…" 

"Spike, why are you reflecting?" 

"Zangy!" Spike gasped again, clutching his friend’s shoulder to keep from keeling over. "I…I have a heartbeat." 

*~*~*

"What?" Buffy said innocently as she walked into the lounge. The eyes staring back at her were conveying anything but. 

"Don’t play that game with me, Summers." 

"Fine," she said sitting down across from Kelly. They had all recently discovered that the wing they were all sharing also had a common room that was helpful when people wanted to socialize outside of their rooms. Currently, the room was vacant except for the woman who was sitting curled up by the fire. 

"Well," Kelly said adjusting her body in the chair. "Did it work?" 

"Which part of the plan?" Buffy said with twinkling eyes. 

"Will start with the first. Did he believe me?" 

"Yeah. I was pretty cute to watch him come in all out of breath and panicked." She bit her lip at the thought of a panting husband. 

"Buffy!" Kelly said with a laugh as she read the expression. 

"What?" Buffy said on the verge of embarrassment. 

"OK. Then I guess that everything else worked out alright? Not that!" She said reading the mildly shocked look on the Slayer’s face. ‘Well, I’m sure that worked out good. Oh geez. What I mean is did everything work out between you two? Things alright now?" 

"Yes," Buffy said sheepishly. She was so delighted that she thought that things were actually on the verge of normal again. As close as their normal could be. 

"Great," Kelly said with a joyful sigh. "Cocoa?" She asked holding up her mug. "I actually taught myself a spell that makes it instantly." 

"No thanks," Buffy said with a smile. "Now if you can make a certain red substance appear all warm in that mug, then I might change my mind." 

"Not yet." 

"So," Buffy began in hopes of changing the subject from her own love life. "How are things in the Zack department?" 

"Good, I think," Kelly said bashfully. "We talked you know, and I talked him into some marriage counseling." 

"Really? Didn’t think he was that kind of guy." 

"Well, he’d do anything for me and I really think I need it." 

"Kelly—" 

The tone of the first syllable was enough to warn the woman to intercede. "I have a lot to deal with, Buffy. I didn’t confide in him and that hurt him a lot. It ended up hurting all of us." She now looked upon he friend with even softer eyes. "I don’t think that I ever apologized for doing this to you." 

"That’s because you don’t need to. I don’t need to hear anymore ‘I’m sorry’s." 

"This is really my fault. Zack didn’t… doesn’t have good reason to trust me." 

"He does to. He loves you." 

"And I betrayed him. Trust and love are different concepts. You know that. Well, I shouldn’t have dragged Spike into the problems anyway." 

"I know it’s none of my business, but when—" 

"Washington D.C.," she said understanding her question. "I was upset when you two went out for White Christmas and I ended up telling him it was because I was pregnant." 

"Oh." There was not much else to say on the topic, so the Slayer decided to venture back to their previous one. "So, how did things go between you and the mister?" 

"Are you kidding?" Kelly laughed. "There was no romantic time for me and Mr. Morris while you and Mr. Bloody were…well for lack of terms not of the vulgar, having romantic time. Most was spent playing with Rosie and making sure she didn’t walk in on you." 

"Oh God," Buffy said shuddering at the thought. "She didn’t really…did she?" 

"Personally, I caught her twice and Zack caught her once on the way to the door. After a while, Zack got to itching for a drink and took off. Surprised he hadn’t gotten shnookered sooner." 

"Sh…what?" 

"Heard it on Conan. Worked for drunk. I liked it. Anyways, he‘s at Willy’s so much that I fear he might be an alcoholic. Not that I blame him." 

"Pity much?" 

"Yes," she grumbled. "I am. I know it’s selfish, but I feel like this is all my fault. If I wasn’t such a whore then we wouldn’t have had these problems." 

"Not to belittle, but I think some of these problems were brought about by more than you and your infidelity." 

Kelly flinched, but got the point. "Yeah, sorry." She tried to hide the twinges of hurt from her voice. 

"I didn’t mean—" 

"No. I know. Don’t worry. Let’s move on." 

"Gladly." 

"Not to go muck it all up, but for the moment things are seeming to be settling down." She quickly added. "That was not to tempt the fates though. I was just hoping that things were going to remain calm." 

As two out of breath bodies entered the room Buffy looked at Kelly and said dryly, "Thanks." 

*~*~*

"Donna!" 

"I’m right beside you, Josh. Don’t think you have to yell." 

"Sorry," he said as he glanced over papers that had come through on the fax machine Dumbledore had acquired for their use. "I’m just used to you being at your desk is all." 

"Since it’s a whole whopping five feet away from your office." 

"Cute," he dryly replied before stopping to look up at her with a puzzled face. "Did you just say ‘whopping’?" 

"Yes." 

"Whopping. Not a word that you would use often." 

"Get back to work," She bossed. She was afraid to get another flirtatious banter started when they were alone. 

"Mr. President," he teased. "We have a whopping budget crisis that needs to be looked at after I ate this whop of a cheeseburger." 

"Whop of a cheeseburger?" She shook her head as she tried to ignore the increasing twinkle in his eyes. "Josh. Just forget it." 

"No way. You got me started. I have a million now." He tossed down his papers as he stretched placing his hands behind his head. "Like this: you know what they call a whop of a cheeseburger?" 

"Just stop. I’ll do anything you want." 

"Promise?" He asked. She blushed, but managed to roll her eyes, so he continued. "A Whopper." 

"Ha," she sarcastically responded. "And you have a million more, eh?"

"Well, no. That was the only other one I had, but it was hella good though." 

She sighed. "Can we stop now?" 

"The whopping unproductive flirtation, the whopping strenuous sexual tension or the whopping conversation on the word ‘whopping’?" 

"Josh?" 

Josh’s jaw dropped as he paused to blink several times. He nearly choked as he finally spoke. "Did I actually say that out loud?" 

Donna merely nodded. 

A deep breath. "Yeah." His face was as crimson with embarrassment as she had ever seen. 

"So you didn’t mean to have that heard verbally?" 

"Are you sure that it was verbal or did you read my thoughts?" 

"Afraid it rolled off your tongue." 

"Wow, that’s not good. Don’t really think that my personal thoughts should be coming out that easily." 

"You’re calling six years easy?" 

"Well…no. But you know what I mean." 

"Josh," Donna knew that this rambling was going to get them nowhere. 

"Well maybe you don’t know but—" 

"Joshua!" 

"Yes," he squeaked. 

She was dreading the words that she was about to say, but she knew that the time had come. She decided that the best way was direct and quick. "Do you want me?" 

"Huh?" He blinked. 

"I think you heard the first time." There was no way in hell she would ask again. 

"Do I…want you?" 

She swallowed as she witnessed an even darker shade of red inhabit his features. "Yup." 

"D-Donna. I w-wasn’t—" 

She looked on the verge of tears as she said. "Forget it. I was just trying to humor things up a little. Joke’s on you." She scrambled off the bed. 

"Donna, wait. Wait!" But she was already out the door. 

*~*~*

"Is everything OK?" Kelly asked as she watched the exasperated two gather their breath. 

"No," the larger of the two gasped. 

"What?" Buffy asked standing up and walking over. 

"Just… just that I don’t think I can breathe." 

Kelly’s eyes went wide. "Please don’t tell me something’s wrong." 

"I don’t like him Momma," Rosie said coming over to her mother. "So, I ran away." 

"Who?" 

"Stephen," Dawn said as she finally gained full use of her lungs once again. "He started his usual teasing and she got mad and ran away." 

Kelly smiled with relief. "Four year olds are hard to chase all over a castle, aren’t they?" 

As Dawn nodded Buffy said, "And you though Slayer strength was too much." 

"Sometimes just being a track star was enough for Zack. Other times, well, no." 

"If you don’t mind," Dawn said biting her lip. "Maybe I could go off and have a little—" 

"No problem." Kelly understood that a young woman needed some free time. "Trust me, even I need a little non-Rosie time." 

"Huh?" Rosie said. 

"Nothing, sweetie," her mother covered before looking back to the babysitter. "Dawnie, it’s more than fine." 

"Thanks," she sighed. 

"One thing," Kelly added. "If you actually find something better to do than wander around or research, let me know." 

Dawn nodded. "Sadly, I was going to research." 

"That’s the fun time?" Buffy asked aghast. "We took a vacation for that?" 

"Well, sorry," he sister teased. "We don’t all have a chance to go jump someone bones when we—" 

"DAWN!" Buffy shrieked. 

"Sorry," she said, but her expression was anything but. "I think now is a good time for me to go." Buffy chased her out of the room. 

"What’s jumping bones?" Rosie asked. 

"Umm…" Kelly looked to Buffy. 

"Like rope. It’s like jumping rope." 

"You have a jump rope?" Rosie said eagerly. 

"You want some cocoa, dear?" Kelly asked her daughter who adamantly accepted. 

"Is that a good idea?" Buffy whispered. "With the sugar?" 

Kelly narrowed her gaze at her friend as she replied. "It will keep her mouth full and away from bone jumping, won’t it?" Then she proceeded to recite the incantation that made a steaming mug appear. 

"Do you have one for the marshmallows?" Buffy asked agreeing that changing the subject was best. 

"I’m working on it," Kelly shifted a bit defensively. 

The next few minutes were spent getting the child to sit down to drink the hot substance. Finally after both women agreed to sit on the floor with her, she agreed. 

"This is nice," Kelly mused as she relaxed her body up against the chair she was once sitting in. "This is the stuff that good vacations are made of."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "Glad that we worked out our—" She stopped herself as she started to think outside of her box. "Xander." 

Kelly flinched. "I know. Isn’t it awful? Poor guy." 

"I mean, not big with the surprise, but still big with the ouch." 

"I think he’ll be better off this way." 

"True." 

"And," Kelly felt strange asking, but it had always been on her mind. "Does he have some relatives with…Pacific Islander decent?" 

"Asians?" Kelly eagerly nodded. "No. Um…Lisa?" 

Kelly eyes wee all the answer that the Slayer needed. The brunette took the opportunity to move on. "And the Dysfunctionals. I think that it’s the end of the band." 

"I can’t believe that Ferris would say that," the Slayer growled. 

"I guess if I play the Defender Game, I could see how he was just scared and doesn’t really know Spike that well." 

"Still." 

"I know." 

"And…I know that we’ve had issues, but have you seen Cameron at all. I mean hardly, but not much." Kelly’s shake of her head inspired her to go on. "I mean…is he gay? He dresses a little…wankerish." 

Neither woman wanted to comment on the adopted vocabulary, so Kelly agreed and added. "And he always has that dog with him. That he talks to. You think that maybe…?" 

"No," Buffy balked. "No thinking of that!" 

"Fine. Again with the moving on," Kelly blushed. 

"OK. Well, Josh and Donna. Are they ever going to get together?"

"I think the two of them have been wondering that longer than we have. I hope so. They would be cute together." 

"You’re just a little romantic, Morris," she teased. 

"Yes. I. Am," she said with pride. "And speaking of romance, I still am trying to find a woman for Giles." 

"Don’t." She covered her ears. "This is just….wrong. It’s like you’re trying to fix up my father." 

"What? I don’t think there is anything wrong with him being in a happy romantic relationship. He’s not that old. And he’s ruggedly handsome," she went on to add when she saw the disgusted look on her friend’s face. "Not that he’s in our age demographic, pervert. Just that he… he deserves it. To be happy. Hopefully in a normal relationship." 

"You call dating a witch normal?" 

"Beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, she kinda has a crush on him." 

"Really?" Buffy said getting a bit more into the conversation. "What has she said? Good things? Is she a good woman? Because he doesn’t need a witch whore. He deserves a classy and respectable sorceress." 

Kelly teased by merely shrugging her shoulders. "You said you didn’t want to talk about this, so we’ll move on. Clarice and Angelus." 

"What? We can’t move on now," She practically whined. "I need to know that he finds what’s best for him." 

"Well, I don’t know. Clarice and him got along, but I think he’s always had a thing for Darla, right?" 

"You’re mean," Buffy pouted. 

"Oh please," Kelly scoffed. "You covered your ears like a toddler. I expected you to start shouting ’La la la la… I can’t hear you! La la la la!’" 

"Funny," Buffy sneered as her friend giggled. "Fine. On to Angelus." 

"I feel bad for Clarice. She might be a soulless evil vampire, but she’s got feelings too." 

"Yeah," she had to admit even though there wasn’t a day that went by that she hadn’t contemplated staking her. "I’m sure Angelus and Darla aren’t making it easy for her either." 

"Probably not," Kelly’s voice trailed off as they both paused to think of the one person they hadn’t mentioned. They knew that she was in more pain than anyone else right now, but neither woman wanted to bring it up. In ways, it was still too painful to think about what their eyes had seen. 

The Slayer spoke first. "It’s only been twenty four hours. It feels like days." 

"I know," Kelly said with barely a whisper. "I-I can’t believe what’s happened." 

"I know," she solemnly replied. "Who knows how long we’ll be here. Helpless." 

"God, I’m sorry," Kelly said looking up at her friend with sympathetic eyes. "That must be killing you. I am just thinking about how I felt bad about not being at the hospital and about how I might get fired if I’m not back by Wednesday and everything. But, you are probably thinking on the grander scale." 

"Yeah. No big though. We’ll get through it somehow." 

Suddenly their husbands burst into the room, startled and out of breath. 

"Zack?" 

"Spike?" 

Zack held up a finger as they both clenched each other’s shoulders as they fought to take in air. 

"Is everything all right?" Kelly asked. 

The look in their eyes when they glared at her was all they needed. "Now you jinxed us, Kel," Buffy snapped. 

"Sorry," she said meekly as they walked over and dragged both men to sit in the chairs. 

"Uncle Spike?" Rosie asked with fear in her voice. She didn’t know whether he was going to become bad again even though she knew that she hadn’t had one of her visions. She was still a little child and didn’t understand. 

"Fine, love," he gasped as he absently patted the top of her head. 

Buffy kneeled down next to her husband and took his hand. "What is it? Did you have another attack? Because if you did it’s alright." All he did was look her in the eye and he took her hand into both of his own. That moment was all she needed to understand. "No." She gasped. 

"What?" Kelly asked. 

"But…how?" Buffy said stroking her husband’s cheek. 

"He just sort of…. Fell over and started." 

"What he said," Spike said finally catching his breath. "Damn, Morris. Did you have to run so fast?" 

"Oh sod off," the blonde man grumbled. "Welcome to how I feel every night." 

"What?" Kelly said becoming a bit impatient. 

"Is it… permanent?" 

"I don’t know, pet. Don’t even know how it happened." He tried his best to comfort his wife. 

Kelly began jumping up and down like a two-year old with a temper tantrum. "What?!?" 

"Spike has come down," Zack was grabbing his wife by the shoulders. "With a case of…humanities." 

Kelly’s eyes went wide as she went to the former vampire’s side. "Oh, poor baby," she cooed. 

"Stop it," he said slapping her hands away. "Just stop it. I’m human not some bloody orphaned puppy, Kel." 

"But now you’re all… mortal. And you might be more like—" 

"Kelly!" Buffy snapped, but the damage was already done. 

"You’ve told her?" He asked his wife with shock. 

"Told her what?" Zack asked as he was now in the dark. 

"We should go find Giles," Buffy pointed out. "Come on." She pulled her husband out of the chair. 

"I can’t believe you’d do that to me, Buffy," Spike said exasperated. 

"I swear if someone doesn’t tell me what is going on now," Zack said irately. "I might try out a Kelly Temper Tantrum." 

"Let’s go," Kelly said picking up Rosie and walking out the door. 

"That’s not fair," Zack called as they all started down the hall, but he soon followed. 

The walk to the library was done mostly in quiet. All annoyance was forgotten as they got closer, but a strange twinge of fear instilled. They all knew that though this might seem good on the outside, badness was involved. Something was out there making them more and more vulnerable by the second. 

"Giles," Zack whispered when they walked in, calling the man from his text. 

"Zack," Giles reprimanded. "I am not having any more drinks tonight." 

"Were you getting him sloshed without me?" Xander asked. 

Zack cast him a dirty look and didn’t even give a glance to Anya or Dawn. "Please. A word." 

"Well, you all can speak, can’t you?" 

"This is…serious," Buffy said biting her lip. 

"Well…" Giles said waiting for the story. 

"Alone," Spike growled. 

"I can tell when we aren’t wanted," Dawn grumbled. 

"You’ll know," Kelly reassured. "It’s just that we need to check things out with Giles first." 

"Does the kid know?" Anya asked. "Come here, Rosie. Come to Auntie Anya." 

"Nice try," Kelly grumbled as she clutched her daughter. 

"Gracious," Giles sighed as he stepped into the hallway. "This better be good." 

"Well… let’s put it this way," Zack said grabbing the Watcher’s hand and placing it on Spike’s forehead. "Does he feel warm to you?" 

Giles pondered a moment before saying. "No. I think he feel’s just about normal." 

"Nope…he’s warm. I think about 96.8 normal to me." 

"Spike?" Giles asked with astonishment as he fully realized. "You can’t." 

"Afraid so, Ripper. Don’t know how. Zangy here can vouch that it was out of the blue. Just started ticking and having to use the lungs again." 

"But this makes no sense," the Watcher said as he began to clean his glasses in his customary way. He was silent a moment before saying, "Unless they are trying to make us all as vulnerable as possible. But if that’s the case…" he voice trailed as he looked to Buffy. 

"I’m next. They’ve messed with Spike as much as they can," she said squeezing her husband’s hand. "Now they think they have him at his breaking point." 

"Dinner," Rosie whimpered as she interrupted. 

Zack glanced down at his watch. "Pigtails is right. Dinner time." 

As they all started down toward the Great Hall, Spike finished the conversation on the previous topic. "That’s alright. Takes more’n that to break me." 

"Good," his best friend commented giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. 

He tried to hold it, but ever so quietly a whimper came forth. "Oh, sorry," Zack whispered as to now embarrass him. "I forgot that I hit you really hard when you were all undead like." He gently rubbed the man’s shoulder. "I’ll try to remember next time." 

"Sod off, Spike mumbled as he pulled away from his friends reach and walked into the Great Hall with his wife. His nostrils filled with the smell of food and he realized that it had been over a hundred years since he last depended on it for nourishment. "Let’s eat," he said with a smile. 


	18. Chapter 18

Dinner proved to be most amusing. 

At least at first. 

Hogwarts was known throughout both worlds—whether by word of mouth or through documentation in the publicized novels—to be the host of one of the most exquisite dining experiences ever. Even the vampires had noticed a certain elevated quality to their blood since arriving. Thus far, the food had been the one consistency in greatness. Everything else had seemingly fallen short. 

Therefore, watching Spike race through the buffet line (Dumbledore, through Xander had heard of this American tradition called the buffet, and admitted to being more than intrigued at the concept) was one sight that no one would be forgetting soon. It took little to piece together what the big news was with his flushed face and heaving chest, and by the time everyone broke out into their customary gossip, the four central figures were too lost in a sea of confusion and amusement to really pay it much attention. The Cockney helped himself to a bit of everything; he nearly doubled over in pleasure when he tasted his first chocolate in over a century. As a vampire, he had always treaded on the outside lines of what was expected. He ate human food enthusiastically, even if his tastebuds registered something completely different than the moniker given a specific dish. 

"Mmmm…" he murmured contentedly, flashing Buffy a grin, for once too enamored to notice the way she only half-heartedly returned it. "Don’t think I’ve quite appreciated chocolate like I should’ve. The only time it’s tasted better it’s when I’m licking it off—" 

"SPIKE!" Kelly and Zack protested, simultaneously diving for their daughter to cover her ears before that statement could surface. 

"Off what?" the girl asked loudly, thoroughly discounting what her parents had tried to accomplish. 

The Morrises sighed in defeat, glanced to each other, and settled for glaring at the current thorn in their side. 

Spike’s eyes widened guiltily. "Erm, fingers," he replied, not at all convincingly. "I like to…ehm…" 

"Better," Kelly observed. "But still not exactly the place we wanna go for a word picture." 

Slater snorted. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that." 

A series of offended gazes met each other before settling on the odious man down the table. However, before Spike could offer his hasty retort, Zack held up a hand and noted wordlessly that anything said with hostile undertones would only provoke him. "Sorry, A.C," he retorted, "that little game doesn’t work anymore." 

"Thank God," Lorne said, nodding his praise to the couples. "With all the bad vibes jiving around this place, I was sure I was going to have to have my sleep removed again. And we all know that that leads to wackiness." 

"And the only wackiness I care to sample right now are those nummy little hors deurves," Spike agreed, turning to the Slayer with another wink. "’Ave you tried one, pet? Positively sinful." 

"God, he’s talking about food," Kelly said, clutching her stomach. 

"I know," Ferris said, snickering his disgust. "If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to hurl. Ate way too much." 

"No, I’m getting one of those weird cravings…" She turned to Zack with newfound enthusiasm. "Hey! Could you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the bread or jelly?" 

He blinked. 

Slowly. 

"So…just peanut butter, then?" 

"No…a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the bread or jelly." 

"That doesn’t sound half bad," Spike agreed, rubbing his abdomen. "While you’re up, Zangy, tend to the newly human." 

"Okay, okay…" Zack slowly rose to his feet. "I’m getting peanut butter?" 

"No!" Kelly snapped. "You’re making a sandwich without the jelly or bread. How many times do I have to say it?" 

He arched an incredulous brow. "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich without the bread or jelly…also known as one big honking glob of peanut butter." 

Kelly sighed indifferently, looking away. "You never understand me, Zack," she said, voice colored in melodrama that he couldn’t help but find absolutely adorable. 

"Sheesh, Zangy," Spike berated, wagging his finger. "Get it right." 

Josh glanced up from where he was attempting to attract Donna’s eyes at the other end of the table, the talk of peanut butter finally getting to him. "Okay, so now that you’re human, you’re going on some weird eating binge, am I to understand?" 

"Uncle Spike’s getting nummy treats!" Rosie answered. "Nummy treats like what I eat!" 

Angelus muttered something of suffering through the same; pointedly ignoring the quizzical look that Buffy shot in his direction. 

Spike just grinned. "You have no idea how good all this tastes after a century and a half on a predominant liquid diet." He demonstratively popped a grape into his mouth. "God, I can’t wait to get some good ole fish’n’chips." 

"Oh, that does sound good." Giles was suddenly very interested. 

That was it. Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. She tacitly rose to her seat, wiped her mouth on her cloth napkin, and stormed out of the Great Hall. It wasn’t until she made it to the corridor that she broke into a run for their room, allowing the bliss that had settled over her only a few short hours before to completely dissipate. There was only so much a person could tolerate before the world came crashing down. She felt herself very fortunate to have made it to her door before the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes were allowed even the slightest leeway. 

Her hasty exit left the diners more than unmoved. 

"Well," Ferris said, "she seemed to be in a huff." 

"Probably just jealous," Slone agreed. 

"Or worried that she’s going to go through eternity alone," Anya interjected with the more obvious answer. "After all, her mate is suddenly up and human. They’ve completely reversed roles from where they started out. I would find that a bit disconcerting. Especially if one day Xander awoke a vengeance demon and I was human, but I suppose that analogy isn’t any good because our days of sex-having are—" 

"ANYA!" the entire table yelled. 

Spike wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at the place where his wife had disappeared, the burden clouding his heart suddenly heavier than ever. With mannerisms he didn’t know he possessed, he politely lifted himself from his seat, draped his napkin over his chair, and excused himself from the table. 

The hallways were large and vacant, and he would be lying if he said that not being able to smell his wife left him a tad disconcerted. However, seeing as there was only one place in the entire castle where she was guaranteed privacy from all but him, deciphering where she had run off to was nothing entirely strenuous. 

When he pushed the doors open, though, his heart promptly tore in two. Buffy was curled on the bed, shaking quietly in a sea of silent sobs. The room was still heavily scented with remnants of their afternoon activities—something no lack of supernatural ability could wash from sensory—and it killed him to see her so distressed when only a little while ago, they had been so happy. 

To know he was the source of her sorrow only dug the trench deeper. 

"Buffy…" 

"Don’t start." She didn’t even bother to turn over and look at him. "Just…leave me alone for a while." 

Spike’s eyes narrowed skeptically. "Yeah…’cause that’ll work." 

"I don’t want to rain on your parade. Go back. I’m sure you have been dying to try the German chocolate cake." 

"Buffy…" His tone was firm, reprimanding and severe. "Y’know perfectly well that that won’t work on me." 

The Slayer abruptly sat up, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. "Sorry…I just…" She turned to look at him. "I’m trying to be happy for you, Spike. But…" 

"Happy for me? I’m not happy like this, kitten. I’m bloody miserable." He smiled kindly and took a few steps forward. "I’m just not getting my knickers in a twist, ‘cause I figure it’ll go away." 

"Go away?" she repeated incredulously. "What? Like this is some sort of disease? You’ll grow out of it? Spike, you’re completely human!" 

He nodded. "Kinda noticed." 

"Then how can you…how can you say you’ll just…" 

A small smile spread across his lips and he moved forward with intent, curling behind her and running his hands down the length of her body, for the first time taking in how cold she really was. How distant. How…not alive. The notion made him shiver, but not with disgust. His lips found the back of her neck and began planting open-mouthed caresses of stimulated reassurance. 

"Kitten, think of everything that’s happened these past few days," he murmured. "You and Zangy get some mucked idea in your heads that Kel and I are shagging, I go wonky and try to off the lot of you…now this. Something’s playing us. Everything else went away…I wager—" 

"Went away?" Buffy repeated, turning at last in his embrace an arching a brow. She knew him better than that. "Don’t do that. Don’t try to…It nearly tore us apart, Spike. And you know it. Kelly and Zack have to go in for marriage counseling, and up until this afternoon, you were afraid to touch me. And Oz…" 

The platinum vampire stilled against her, his eyes falling shut and his jaw tightening. "Sorry," he murmured, lightly kissing her chin before pulling back again. The telling chill that raced through his body aided her relaxation. "I just…if I stop to think about it…" 

She nodded understandingly. "I know." 

"But, pet, we will get through this. Me, coming down with a case of the pulse-having bit?" He arched his brows at her. "’S not natural. Not that anything that happens to us is natural or anything, but this is…" He frowned when he saw tears welling in her eyes once more. "There now, none of that. Even if we can’t find a cure, there’s really nothing to make a mess about." 

"Oh?" The word was barely audible, at least to his ears. 

Spike smiled at her. She was too cute for words at times. "Yeah," he replied lowly, the hand wrapped around her middle slowly sliding up until his thumb gently caressed her mouth. "All you gotta do is…" 

That was it. She froze, her eyes going wide. Then she was twisting away from him, edging to her side of the bed. "You’re…" The words wouldn’t come. "You…didn’t just suggest what I think you suggested, did you?" 

"What? That you sire me?" She flinched at the word, but he offered no reaction at all. "Sure did, kitten. Really, wouldn’t be so bad…" A seductive smirk crossed his features and he began prowling toward her. "The connection between sire and childe? Unimaginable. It’d just mean you get a piece of me…" His tongue poked out and licked a long pathway from her collarbone to her lips, "that no one else can touch." 

Unable to help herself, the Slayer’s head fell back, exposing her throat to him. Spike wasted no time trailing kisses across her pale skin, hand skimming up her arm, barely touching. It took a minute for his words to register, though, and she pulled away when they did. "That…no one else can touch? Does that mean—" 

"That up until an hour ago, Dru still had a hold on me?" Buffy glanced down, already knowing the answer but not wanting to hear it. "It doesn’t matter how much I love you, kitten…vampiric ties are too strong to muck with…even with the claim. Dru made me what I am. She made me, but I’m yours. Yours now and forever. What part of me that she had is gone now, and I wanna give it to you. I want it to be yours." He sighed, his own words getting to him, and couldn’t help himself from nuzzling her throat again. "I want everything I have to be yours." 

"Spike…"

"Mmm…" He began to nibble lightly on her exposed flesh, hands trailing back down to her backside, rubbing circles against her. Soothing. Calm. "Remember when we used to…when you were…alive?" 

The ability to form coherent thought was lost on her. "Uhhh…" 

"You were so warm…felt so good…" He grinned. "You always feel good, so don’t try to catch me on that. You always feel…bloody…fantastic. You’re still warm…but…’m not. And I know it." Spike pulled back to catch her eyes, smiling in satisfaction when he noted the lost, nearly-lost look of undisguised passion on her face. "But I am now. Whaddya say, love? Wanna test out the new hardware?" 

"Spike…" 

"Well, okay. Not-so-new. How ‘bout the newly-warmed hardware?" 

"Spike, I won’t…" She hissed sharply when his teeth sank into her throat, lightly, softly. He couldn’t possibly gain as much leverage as he did when he extracted his more common vampire muscles behind his bites, but for whatever reason, this seemed too affect her more. Buffy gasped and arched back, hands instinctively going to his head to hold him in resolute place as his own began to worm their way up the skirt she had donned after their afternoon festivities. "God…I won’t…I won’t sire you, I won’t…" 

Her tone was hardly convincing. Without lifting his head, he offered a muffled, "Why not?" 

"Haven’t…ever…mmmm…sired…"

"I’ll walk you through it, love." 

"Spike, I won’t kill you." 

"Wanna be killed. By you. Over and over." He buried his head in her shoulder, hiding the intuitive grin that spread across his lips when he found no cloth covering her pelvis. "Feeling naughty today, are we?" 

There was another gasp and she all but bucked into his hand, clutching intensely at his shoulders. "I’m…I’m serious. I won’t do it. I won’t…kill…you’ve…it’d be wrong, Spike. You’ve…been given…oh god…a great…gift…" 

"Yeah," he agreed. "And she’s writhing on my bed." 

"Spike—" 

"Oh, fine. Our bed." 

"I’m…serious. I won’t—" 

He lifted his head, stilling his southward ministrations as his eyes captured hers. It was only then that his stomach fell, seeing that she was serious. "Please, Buffy," he all but whispered. "Share this with me. Do this with me. Sire me. Make me…" He pushed forward at her crescendo. "Yours. Signed in bonds and blood. It’ll be so good, pet. It’ll be so good…for both of us…"

It was perhaps the stillest silence anyone had ever asked him to endure. The trade made only with gazes—his imploring, hers searching. Contemplating. Trying to decide within her maze of right and wrong if it was okay to kill someone because they asked it. 

It wouldn’t be killing. It would be siring. And it would be beautiful. 

The Slayer within couldn’t rest with that. Spike wanted death so that he could share it with her. She couldn’t allow herself to act on impulse, especially when so much was at stake. He had earned this, whatever it was. This sudden plague of humanitus. If he was alive again, there was a reason. 

And she couldn’t take that away from him. Not when he had a shot at normality. 

"I won’t…" Buffy choked, shaking her head through the tears that were threatening to spill. "God, Spike, I won’t. I’ll always love you. I do. I love you too much to kill you, even if it is just for us. I can’t…do that to you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…" 

Spike silenced her with his mouth, persuading her to the mattress with little incentive. His own mind was warring. Contemplating. If Buffy wouldn’t sire him, he was sure it would be the end of everything he had known. Especially if a cure or a cause for his ailment was not pinpointed. 

He couldn’t live as human if she didn’t. He wouldn’t. 

He simply needed to convince her of that. 

But not now. 

*~*~*

The general consensus that Zack and Kelly reached revolved around the innate knowledge that as went Buffy, so went Spike. For the love of her unlife to suddenly spout a different body temperature—especially if it was several degrees warmer—had to hurt more than she ever let on. 

Zack denied vehemently to all that inquired that he was worried—even to the concerned façade of his wife when she caught him in such an anxious state. In truth, he was petrified. His friend had only sampled happiness briefly after being forced through so much turmoil the past few days. While he wagered that Buffy’s reaction to Spike’s transformation could not be of the good, he hadn’t seriously given much thought to the sudden pulse-having status of his friend to be a permanent thing. 

He didn’t know what he would do if it did. What Buffy would do. God, he didn’t even want to think about it. 

"Uncle Spike doesn’t ‘grrrr’ anymore?" Rosie asked with trepidation, clutching to her father. She had insisted that she help him look for Spike, not satisfied in waiting with her mother in the Great Hall. 

"Not right now, Sweetie." 

"But he will be again, right?" 

"Giles is looking into it." But how much was anyone’s guess. The Watcher seemed riveted at the idea that a vampire could assume human form without prompt, and while he was determined to reach an answer, Zack wasn’t entirely convinced that ‘answer’ equaled ‘cure’ in Giles’s book. In fact, the old man had appeared rather…anxious. As though he expected something more to emerge from this transformation. 

Zack and Rosie stopped solemnly before the door that led to the Bloody’s chamber. He stopped for a minute with his hand on the handle, thought about it, then pressed his ear to the door. At his feet, his daughter thought it best to mimic his actions. In the fit he had seen Buffy vacate the dining hall in, he figured she was in too much of a temper to be in the mood for conversation, but Spike had a way of dragging everyone down to the place he felt most comfortable at. If he wanted to talk about their situation, he would make her talk. 

The last thing he expected them to be doing was what he heard. Softly at first, but there was no mistaking that sort of… 

Well, there was just no mistaking it. 

"Oh, God…" A feminine voice whimpered. "So…warm…" 

"Cool to the touch," a Cockney tenor agreed, rumbling his own pleasure with a moan of exertion. "God, you feel good, pet. So…ahhhh…" 

"Warm! So…oh god. In me. Burning. Warm. Gonna…gonna do it now. Gonna…" 

"Daddy?" The voice at his side, tugging at his jacket, snapped Zack back from the naughty (and somewhat disturbing) mental places he was visiting. The muffled sound at the other side of the door forced him to realize that his daughter was about to learn about the birds and the bees about ten years before he felt she had the right to. "Daddy, what are—" 

"Talking!" he said, a bit too loudly as the sounds inside came to an abrupt standstill. "They’re talking, hon. Better leave them alone." 

He hoped that his highly vocalized warning would cause the blonde duo to suddenly appear and reassure their godchild that all was well, but soon, voices could be heard. 

And they weren’t coming out. 

"What? Ohhhh…again?" 

"Mmmm…again and again. We’re putting a sodding deadbolt on that door. No bloody interr…oh god." 

"You’re…good for another…?" 

God, he could practically hear the Cockney grinning. "Always. Having a pulse and having stamina are in no way related. It’s just a matter of principle." 

"Spike…Rosie…she’ll wanna…" 

"Wait. Gotta wait. Just…yeah, love. Just like that. Don’t be afraid to use ‘em. It’s what they’re there for. Ohhhh—" 

"Fighting!" Zack amended. "They’re fighting. Oh, about nothing, though. Toothpaste. They’re fighting about toothpaste. Come on. Your mom’ll be wondering what’s taking us." 

The man quickly ushered his daughter down the hallway. He was sure he would never forgive his friend from putting him in that awkward situation—especially after granting them all afternoon—even if he was glad they were getting along. 

He only hoped it wasn’t temporary. 

*~*~*

"Spike, no, stop…" Buffy placed her hands on his shoulders, and while he froze inside her, he made no effort to move. "It’s…I can’t do this." 

"What?" 

"You…" Her eyes blurred with tears, and her hand ran lengthwise across his jugular. She could feel his pulse burning her fingers and digging trenches all the way to her worried heart, and the notion all but killed her. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to be with him…and want to kill him in the same measure. Shouldn’t want to sink her fangs into his throat. It was never like this with others. Over the years, she had learned to school her demon so that her social interactions suffered no hindrance. There had barely been any change at all. 

But with Spike within her now, closer than anyone had ever dared to get to her while she remained pulseless, the temptation to rip his throat out was something the demon within could not ignore. Porphyria wanted blood. His blood. And she wasn’t being subtle in the request. 

When their eyes met, he understood. A sigh rumbled through his body and he lowered his head to nuzzle her throat, intentionally baring his own to her. "’S all right," he whispered. "Go ahead. I want you to." 

"What?!" Buffy’s grip on his arms became near-painful, and he did his damndest not to flinch. "No! That’s gross and obscene! It—" 

He arched a brow at her. "How’s it any different from all the other times we’ve let our fangs come into play during sex?" 

"Because we both had fangs at that point!" She was beginning to quiver once more, tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the reminder of everything that was happening. "Spike, I can’t…I can’t do this. You’re…" 

He emitted an intentional, steady breath against her. "I’m still me," he whispered. "Still here. Still love you. Love you, love you, love you. Love you, want you to bite me. Come on, pet. Bite me. It’ll be good. It’ll be so good." 

"For me, yeah. It’ll hurt you." 

"No." He pulled back and grinned at her. "’S that what you think? God, no wonder you never let me…when we were together before. It won’t hurt, love. In fact…" His teeth skinned the surface of her own throat, grin broadening when she arched and subconsciously began to wriggle against him once more. "It’ll feel bloody fantastic." 

"It." Gasp. "Will?" 

"Oh, yeah," Spike rumbled seductively. "Vamp bites aren’t about pain, Buffy. Not in that context. Not unless we’re…" He stopped when he caught himself. He was no longer apart of the ‘we’ in that equation. Not for the moment. "You’re aiming for the kill. If we’re doing…" A pause as he surged powerfully within her, reminding her wordlessly of their compromising position, "this, it feels abso-bloody-lutely fantastic…from both ends. In fact…" He grinned at her. "I might like it a bit more than you." 

She managed to snicker at him. "You would. God, you’re bent." 

He shrugged. "Whatever makes you scream." 

"And…egotistical." 

"Gimme plenty of reason to be." A few seconds passed with nothing at all. "Buffy…please…" 

"No." 

"I promise, it won’t hurt me at all." 

"I’m not biting you, Spike." 

The disappointment was manifest throughout his entire body—from the slump of shoulders to the stilled, near-shallow thrusts of his hips. "Fine," he rumbled a minute later. "I’ll just bite you." 

"What are you…oh!" 

Blunt teeth worked wonders on vampires at their peak. He knew that from experience. Just as he knew what she would do next. The demon couldn’t help itself when provoked. With a roar of subconscious concession, Buffy’s bumpies emerged and her fangs embedded themselves in his throat. 

And Spike brought the house down. His orgasm seemed to go on forever before he finally collapsed atop her, breathing heavily against her throat. Warm breaths as strength returned to his muscles. It was quite an unusual sensation. Feeling his muscles turn to goo instead of hers. Having that refractory period he once scorned at in desperate use. Feeling cold against warm, and being the owner of said warm. 

He didn’t even realize that she was lapping apologetically at the wound she made until she drew his head down to hers to search for any sign of pain. He grinned at her antics and kissed her temple with soundless reassurance. When he had the strength enough to slip out of her, he turned to his side and brushed the hair from her face, eyes smiling kindly. 

"Told you." 

*~*~*

"I hope they’re good at selecting guilt presents," Kelly murmured to Zack as they watched Rosie doodle mindlessly in her coloring book. "’Cause they owe her about half of Toys R Us right about now." 

"And us a week on the town with free babysitting," he agreed. 

"Well, they’re giving it to us," she decided. "Whether they want to or not." 

*~*~*

"Buffy…"

"Mmmm?"

"I…" He paused, the words frozen in his throat. "There’s…I’m feeling it, kitten."

"Feeling what?"

"It’s nothing definite yet. Just…feelings. Memories. Sharp jolts of…" He met her eyes when he felt her demand it of him. "Love, I got the full package. A pulse, a heartbeat, a reflection, and…" He trailed off expectantly, waiting for her to put the puzzle together.

It didn’t take long.

"A soul. You’re…" Buffy’s eyes widened and she leapt out of his arms, practically to the other side of the bed. "Oh God, you’re William. You’re William and I…and we…"

"No, kitten, not yet." Spike was up the next minute, grasping her wrists and forcing her to look at him. "I’m not William. I’m your husband, your mate. I’m Spike. But…" He sighed heavily against her. "I don’t know how much longer."

"Longer?"

"Before William’s completely back in control." The puzzlement in her eyes was prompt enough to continue. "It’s not like before, kitten. Not like when I had a soul and everything was…sudden. This one’s kinda creeping up on me."

The look on her face made his heart break all over again. That seemed to be happening a lot as of recent. "How…when did you know?"

"Pretty much now." Spike took a long breath and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I was looking at you…and I…I felt this bloody awful need to… _compose."_ He closed his eyes at the sheer pain the thought invoked. "But it’s coming now. I should’ve seen it."

She studied him suspiciously. He looked much too calm, considering what he had just revealed. "Why aren’t you…why aren’t you wigging out about this?"

Spike’s head tilted. "Don’t know," he replied. The look in her eyes was painful—though he didn’t know for him. For her, realizing she was losing the man she had married, or for him. The William part of him. The part that acquiesced that while se loved him, it was the demon she craved.

The demon that was gone in all context. The demon that remained only in the fading shadows of his counterpart.

The demon that screamed silently at the thought of leaving her at all.

"God pet…" He closed his eyes. "Do it. Please. Kill me now. Sire me, Buffy. Make me…I can’t leave you. Not like this. Don’t make me."

Buffy was forgone, staring into space at a place she couldn’t see. William. Why hadn’t she considered that? The obvious answer was because she had seen Spike when she looked into his eyes earlier, and naturally wagered if he was Spike then, he would be Spike forever. But this made sense—it made too much sense. The humanitus wasn’t having a soul forced onto you—it was adapting slowly to the soul that was already there.

William. The memories she had of William were strong and fond. William who was so very much like Spike, had Spike had a close father to the likes of Giles. She remembered loving William very much—so much that losing him was almost unbearable. She remembered loving him for his candor and strength. For being there when she felt like ending everything forever. For loving her enough to know what she truly wanted.

William had given her Spike back. He had given her Spike, and now she was married to him. Married and mated, even if he was no longer a vampire. The relationship she had now with him was unlike any before in the entirety of her existence. And with as much as she had loved William, she loved Spike all the more. She loved what they had, what they shared. What they had given each other over the years. Before she hadn’t had anything to compare her relationship with William to. No she had this incredible love, this incredible life, and it was being ripped from her. Torn mercilessly at the cackling glee of some demented old fogie who had decided they were too much fun to fuck with.

William and Spike. It was like loving two different entities, despite the daily assurances she gave her husband about them being the same. In many ways, they _were_ the same.

In many more, they were different.

William had given her everything. He had been intelligent, bookish, passionate, funny, quick, witty and he had loved her. He had loved her enough to give up his soul.

Spike was all those things as well—though perhaps not bookish, and he had wished a soul upon himself.

Spike gave her William

William, in turn, gave her Spike.

They were willing to sacrifice themselves over and over again if they thought that was what she wanted.

Buffy had loved William with everything she had. In many ways, she still did. For being everything he was, for doing everything he did, for giving everything he gave.

But it was Spike who owned her heart.

Spike who she needed.

Spike who was leaving her.

It would be so simple to sire him and solve everything. But even then, could she be granted her guarantee? It wasn’t right to rid someone of their second-chance because of her mounting insecurities. Because of her jealousy. Because of everything. William had already given up everything for her, and Spike had done the same. It wasn’t fair to ask for his mortality, as well.

Even if it was what he said he wanted. Because he couldn’t mean that.

He _couldn’t._

"Spike…" Buffy’s tear-filled voice was strained. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"But I won’t sire you. I can’t. It’s not right."

The look he gave her was devastating. "Not right? Not bloody right? This is what’s not right, Buffy. Me, being here. In the sodding flesh! Having a pulse? A heartbeat? That’s not right, kitten. The only right for me is when I’m with you. When I’m a _vampire_. I need…please…"

"Please. God, please don’t make this harder than it is. I just…I don’t want to lose you. I don’t. I really don’t. It’s going to kill me. But I can’t let that, I can’t let my _selfishness_ rob you of your…don’t you see what you’ve been given?"

"Your selfishness? Buffy, I _want_ to be sired. I _want—"_

She stifled a sob. "You can’t mean that."

"Just because you can’t own up to being dead doesn’t mean I have the same issues. I _want_ to be a vamp. I…" He trailed off, emotion getting the better of him. "I can’t lose you after everything that’s happened."

"You won’t…" Buffy said unconvincingly. "I’ll be here. Always."

"For dear old William, too?" His tone became vindictive. Clouded in devastation, pleading, and anger. "Doesn’t sodding matter to you which one I am, does it? You just mark the tally up, taking whatever you can get. Well, bugger that, Buffy. If you can hop from one to the other, maybe you aren’t the girl I thought you were. I love _you,_ and I thought you…" He sighed. "Maybe I’m being unfair, but I thought you loved _me."_

"I do! God, I do!"

"Not enough to care who’s steering, though. Right?"

"I never said—"

"You didn’t sodding need to." Without another word, Spike stormed from the room with a huff and slammed the door behind him.

Buffy crumpled to her knees in tears. Everything had gone wrong so fast.

*~*~*

An hour passed and she had not seen him. Buffy sat wistfully in the same common room she and Kelly had, not so long ago, shared their moment of discussion and catch-up, staring blankly at the wall, trying to piece together what had happened. However, every time she allowed her mind to wander, the only thing she could think of was the look on Spike’s face when he left.

When he demanded if she would be happy with anything that inhabited his body, just as long as it had his face.

And she knew then he was so completely far from the truth. Whatever she and William had shared in the past was just that—in the past. It was different from her relationship with Spike. And while she was completely grateful to everything William had done for her, he wasn’t the one she wanted.

Funny. William had known that the entire time, whereas it had taken her six years for her to realize.

Buffy was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice Kelly until she sat in the seat across from her, a proffered mu g of blood in her hand.

"Hey, deep-thought gal," Kelly said.

Buffy tried to smile but her heart wasn’t in it. "Hey."

"Things didn’t go well, huh?" Kelly didn’t even wait for a response. "This is sort of bizarre, watching you two on the outs so frequently. I mean, when Zack came back to the Hall, he said that you were…" The segue into the innuendo didn’t even merit a fake flush. "What did…is the human thing? Or…"

"It’s the William thing," Buffy said, stifling a sob. "He thinks that I’m okay with whoever he is as long as…and he’s wrong. He’s…I loved Will. I did. He was everything to me, so much that his being there got me distracted. Got me killed. But he wasn’t the one I really wanted. And the entire time, he knew it. I loved Will, but I was _in_ love with Spike. And it’s been like that…"

"And Spike thinks that you’ll just…" Kelly gestured emphatically. "Jump him, no matter what? This entire situation kinda boggles the mind. He’s jealous of…himself?"

"It’s hard to explain," Buffy agreed. "I gave up years ago. Will and Spike are so alike, despite what they say. Will hates Spike and Spike hates Will, but they…I never knew that the demon inside could be more like the man. How could I after Angel? After _me?_ You can’t imagine the darkness, Kelly. How scary it is. And Spike fights it every day. He might never understand why, but he does. He never needed a soul. He just needed someone to believe in him." She sighed. "I think Spike hates William because he has that luxury. That innate right-versus-wrong knowledge. He also hates William ‘cause William got every benefit. Giles’s friendship, Xander’s trust, Willow’s belief…everything Spike’s wanted forever. Yet he can’t truly hate him ‘cause they’re the same."

"And you don’t think Spike has a right to automatically assume…"

"Oh, he has every right," Buffy deadpanned. "Don’t you think I’ve wondered about that? If Spike would rather I be Porphyria so he could stop trying to do good and have what his demon craves _all_ the time? Well, he doesn’t. And I know he doesn’t. I’ve felt what he’s felt long enough through our connection to know he hates that murderous bitch every bit as much as I do. I know he wouldn’t accept her if the situation was reversed."

"But why now?" Kelly prodded. "This seems like something you guys would’ve discussed already."

"Because," Buffy murmured. "Spike. He’s…he’s becoming…"

A look of understanding crossed Kelly’s face. "William."

"Yeah." Buffy didn’t even realize she had started crying again until her tears trickled down onto the sofa. "He wanted me to kill him. Sire him. Make him what he was."

"Well, what’s the problem? You want him to be a vampire, don’t you?"

"Of course." Buffy broke and shook her head. "But it would be wrong."

"Why? How?"

"Whatever made him turn was…I can’t be that selfish."

"Buffy, it’s what he wants! How is that being selfish?"

"He wants it so he won’t be William, so he’s being selfish, too." The Slayer smiled through her tears. "You think I can’t see it, but I see. I love him so much. And if he’s gone— _really_ gone…I don’t know what I’m gonna do."

*~*~*

Zack had been searching the castle for an hour and a half to little avail. He had tried their room—this time without Rosie—but there was only silence. He knew Spike well enough to know Spike and silence did not coexist. In a fit of desperation, he ran to the library, hoping Giles had stumbled across some secret that would unlock the reasoning behind his friend’s sudden transformation.

He was not prepared for what he saw. Before either man could react, he bolted off in the opposite direction, not stopping until he reached Buffy.

"Something’s wrong with Spike," he breathlessly told the women in the Commons. "Come on! You gotta see…"

The three of them had never run so fast. They didn’t stop until they reached the library. And saw Spike inside. With Giles, perched over research, chatting quietly about Eastern philosophy while sipping at coffee. Neither man looked particularly displeased. Spike actually laughed at something the Watcher said.

All eyes fell on Buffy. Wordless. But she could not look back.

"William."

*~*~*

"Fix it!" Zack snapped nearly twenty minutes after Buffy declared the identity of the man now inhabiting Spike’s human form.

After Buffy’s words, Zack pulled his wife into the hall and demanded answers. Buffy spent the next twenty minutes bringing him up to speed. Buffy stood beside them, but didn’t do much to aid the conversation. It wasn’t until Zack spoke up that she snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"Fix him! Make him Spike!"

"No, I can’t—"

"How goddamned slow are you? Sire his ass and bring Spike back!"

"Zack," she growled. It’s not that easy. And now, I’m not going to."

"I’m sure she knows what she’s doing," Kelly said gently, taking her husband’s arm.

Zack spent a short moment relishing his wife’s embrace. "I don’t know if she does. Spike wouldn’t want this."

Kelly did not pull away until she was sure Zack had calmed. She took his hand and squeezed it.

"You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about," Buffy snapped. "You can never understand, Zack."

"Well, try this. Sire _my_ fucking ass and I’ll go in there and do the job you’re too damn chicken to do."

Before Buffy could respond, the library door opened. All eyes turned to Giles as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh," Kelly asked with concern. "Was he offended when we kinda left him?"

"No, he was just a little concerned when he heard the shouting."

"This is ridiculous!" Zack threw his hands in the air. He turned to Giles. "I’m sorry. I know that guy in there is your best friend, but the body he’s invading belongs to _my_ best friend. And I’m selfish, but I want him back."

"Treating like William like he’s the enemy isn’t a solution, Zack. He didn’t choose this anymore than we did."

"Unless someone did," Kelly said meekly.

"What?" Giles asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

"Kelly," Giles sighed as he began a lecture. "If you believe William chose for these events—"

"No, I don’t. But what if…" Kelly shook her head and silenced herself. "It’s wrong to think of it. I just remember hearing stories and I know she’s capable of it. But I don’t think she would."

"Willow," Buffy gasped, her eyes widening.

"It makes sense. How better to get back at Spike but by killing him," Zack said. "But I’m not saying she did it. Not even going to accuse in my mind. I’ve done enough jumping to conclusions to take me through the next lifetime."

"I don’t know," Giles said. It does make sense, but it also could be a part of the ongoing situation."

"I’ll go talk to her," Buffy suggested. "She’s been in her room so much she might not even be sure what’s happened."

"Sounds good," Giles said, clearing his throat. "In the meantime, Xander and Anya are going to start researching after dinner."

"Well, I haven’t joined in the customary researching this time around," Kelly said. "I left Rosie with Donna. Just let me go talk to her and I think I can come back down to help."

"Wonderful," the Watcher said with a smile. He then turned to his blond haired friend. "Zack?"

"I don’t know. I mean…I can’t." He shook his head in disgust. "He’s not… _him._ I know you practically hate Spike and find me about as annoying as they come, but don’t you see, Giles? Forget me. Just think about the fact that he isn’t Buffy’s husband. Buffy’s husband is gone. Spike is gone."

Giles walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand the delicacy of this situation entails. Trust me when I say you will see Spike again." He tried to hide his bitterness from his voice as he said the last line, but part of his emotion seeped through. He turned and stalked into the library.

*~*~*

"Huh?" Josh said as he stood outside Donna’s room. All he heard was Donna’s laughing ring, but he didn’t know the cause. He hadn’t the chance to speak with her since she walked from the room.

Suddenly, the door burst open, but it wasn’t Donna standing before him. "Hi!" Rosie giggled.

"Hi," Josh said, off guard. "Is your mom here?"

"Nope," Donna said, coming to the door. She took the child’s hand. "Kelly had to go handle something and she asked if I could watch Rosie." She said the child’s name in case Josh didn’t remember.

"Oh." Josh crouched to face the girl. "And where were you headed?"

"I was going to hide away so Donna could seek me."

"Without permission," Donna added.

"Sorry," Rosie said, looking up for forgiveness.

"Like I couldn’t accept." Donna scooped the girl into her arms and kissed her cheek. "You are something else."

"Well, what’s the plan now? Josh leaned against the door. His plan was to play it cool and not let Donna know how nervous he was. Seconds ago he was annoyed by Rosie’s presence; now he was grateful.

"Well, since it’s still sunny, Rosie and I were going to go outside and take a walk." With that, they tried to get past him.

"Is this for girls only?" he asked, testing the waters.

Before Donna could answer, Rosie said, "Come on! You can play with us, too!"

"Well…" Donna didn’t like it. She had tried avoiding him since she made a fool of herself in his presence and Rosie wasn’t enough to buffer her. "Maybe Josh has some work that he needs to do for the President."

"The Pressadent?"

"The President of the United States. Have you heard of President Bartlet?" Josh asked the girl. She shook her head. Josh was in the clear as he scooped Rosie into his arms. He knew winning the girl was the key to Donna at the moment. "Well, he’s the leader of the country you live in. He’s in charge of keeping everyone safe."

"He’s bigger than Aunt Buffy?"

"Well, yeah. He’s elected by the whole country. I work for him as the Deputy Chief of Staff." He glanced to Donna only to see her quickly look to the ground.

Then he heard a snicker behind him. "You’re in trouble now, Lyman."

Before he could turn, Rosie looked up and screamed, "Daddy!"

Josh and Donna turned to see Zack and Kelly with their arms folded. "Go on," Kelly teased. "We want you to explain an election and your job to a four year old/"

"Why hasn’t she heard of the President?"

"Josh!" Zack called. "She’s four. It’s been more imperative for her to watch Sesame Street than learn about the government. Now get shot of him with Kermit the Frog and we’ll talk."

"She should learn about democracy!"

"Honey," Kelly said to her child. "Say democracy."

"Demoncraphsy."

Kelly smiled. "I think she needs to learn how to do it first."

"She knows about monsters, though," Donna said in Josh’s defense. "So if you spent more time with her, she could probably grasp the subject."

Zack stepped in. "Yeah, well, we don’t feel her life is in danger by the president. She learns about monsters and demons for a reason."

"Speaking of dangers," Kelly said. "Do you think you could watch Rosie a while longer? We were going to go into research mode."

"Sure, we can watch her," Josh said. "Take your time. We know how long research can take. Don’t we, Donna?"

"I don’t know who’s inhabiting your body," Zack said as he backed away. "But I have to say that I like the generous compassionate and child-loving Josh Lyman. You’ll watch him, won’t you, Donna?"

"Don’t worry." With Donna’s words of comfort, the Morrises turned to head in the other direction.

Josh set Rose down and the girl took off to the end of the hallway. "By the way," he whispered. "I knew her name all along."

"I was just making sure," she said. "She is a darling, though. The way she knows to keep in sight at all times. I don’t know how they trained her so well."

"I don’t know how Zack Morris’s flesh and blood could be so well behaved. If his kids turn out this well, there’s hope for me yet."

"You want kids?" Donna asked, shocked. "I never thought you as the family type."

"I could," Josh said defensively. "Besides, any kid would be lucky to have me for a father."

Donna stopped to laugh. "You don’t have time for a life. How would you have time for a child? Besides that, you would end up forgetting it all the time. You would still have to have me around to remind you that it was time for you to make time for the kid."

Josh gave her one of his prize-winning smiles. Before he walked off, he said, "Well, if you’re the mother then you really wouldn’t be working that much harder than you are, already."

Donna stood in shock as she watched Josh take the child’s hand and continue down the hall. She couldn’t figure the man out.

Josh was thinking the same.

*~*~*

"Zack," Kelly groaned as she let her husband drag her forward.

"Don’t worry. We’re almost there."

"We’re nowhere near the library. In fact…we’re closer to our rooms."

"Exactly," he said, turning his head to wink and grin.

"Zack," she said, trying her best to play annoyed. If anything, she was in adoration of her husband’s cuteness.

"Hey," he playfully snapped. "Just follow."

"Is this really helping?"

"Yes and no." He had to laugh when he saw her skeptical reaction. "No, because I really want to just take you to bed and have my way with you. But yes because I think I have a book I stole from Giles in the room." With that he walked to their room and opened the door, then dragged his wife in.

"You are something else, Zack Morris."

He didn’t allow her to move past him as he reached behind her to pull the door closed. "And you married him." With that, he pressed her against the partition and began planting soft kisses at her neck.

"Oh," Kelly whimpered with pleasant surprise. "Isn’t the kind of work that I had in mind."

"Nice change of peace, though," Zack muttered.

"Yes," Kelly sighed as she closed her eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair as he continued to explore her neck with his lips.

After a few moments, Zack decided that he was through with games. He pressed himself against her, and brought his lips to her mouth. With his kiss he conveyed that he was no longer into flirtatious play, but had deeper physical desires.

Kelly couldn’t continue. As her husband’s lips crushed against her own in fevering passion, she could only think about how disloyal hers truly were. As she thought of the eye eyes inching from her own that would smile and gaze upon her every morning when she awoke, she could only think of another pair that looked upon her naked flesh one eerie morn. "No."

Zack was more perplexed by the pain in her eyes. "Kelly."

"We can’t…I can’t…research. We need to research." She pulled away and reached for the door.

"Did I do something wrong? I mean, I thought you might…"

"No Zack," Kelly said softly as she planted a chaste kiss on his lips. "I’m just going to go back down to the library. You can find the book and meet me there." With that she was gone.

"What did I do?" Zack said to the empty room.

*~*~*

After several minutes, Kelly concluded her search should be taken to the lower levels of the castle. She embarked on the stairwell contemplating where first to continue her investigation, but abruptly concluded her thoughts as she saw the suspect loitering at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, Kel," Slater said as she completed the last step.

She wasted no time with pointless chitchat as she shoved him into the wall. "I want answers. Nothing more."

"Oh, is that the game we’re playing now?" He smiled wickedly.

"This isn’t a game," she snapped.

"Fine," he replied saucily. "Shoot."

"Why did I sleep with you?"

"Well, I guess that you couldn’t help but find me—"

"No. What did you tell me? What was the lie? You had to do something. Was it his new secretary? Did you fool me with that? _What was it? Why?"_ She had hold of his collar with both hands and started shaking him madly.

Her emotion was controlled nearly enough and it took Slater only seconds to overpower her. Before she could bat her eye, Slater had her pinned against the wall in her place. "I don’t know. Maybe a little taste will jog my memory." He seized her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mate," a voice called behind him.

He turned to see William standing behind him, his arms folded.

"Oh," Slater said, releasing his grip and turning to face the former vampire. "And what are you going to do about it? Not much without vampire strength, eh?"

"Well, you can always try and see." He stood his ground. "Why don’t you pick on someone your own sodding size?"

Slater walked over and wasted no time with insults. The first punch hit William squarely in the jaw, but it was the second that put him on the ground.

"No!" Kelly screamed, running and jumping on Slater’s back. Unfortunately, this did little slow down Slater’s feet, which continued to kick the fallen man.

"Sorry babe," Slater said, tossing her to the floor. "Don’t think you’re gonna stop me."

"No, but I think I can," said a voice behind Slater, its owner immediately tossing him against the wall.

"How cute, Preppy," Slater sneered. "Just in time to say the day."

Zack’s fist half a dozen punches alternated from his face and his gut. "I don’t want you anywhere near my family. That includes my best friend."

"Are you his protector now?" AC mocked, getting a jab in Zack’s stomach.

"I just want you to stay away. I killed you once and I wouldn’t mind doing it again." He stepped back, allowing the man to drop to the floor.

"Besides," Slater said, wiping blood from his mouth. "She came looking for me."

Zack didn’t spare a glance at his wife, who was helping a battered William to his feet. "I don’t care," he growled. "Get out of here."

"Fine," he said, scampering away. "Maybe later, Kel."

"Go to hell," she spat.

As soon as Zack saw Slater was out of sight, he went to William’s side and helped finishing him stand.

"Thank you," Kelly said to the broken blond.

"My pleasure," William ground out. "Not like I need internal organs or anything."

"Come on," Zack said, guiding him in the direction of the medical wing. When he saw the process would be slow, he hiked the man into his arms and carried him.

"Thanks," William said.

"No prob. Thanks for saving my wife." He glanced to Kelly who had retrieved Giles’s discarded book from the staircase.

"I can explain," she said, gripping the book to her breast.

"Later. Don’t worry." Infidelity was the last thing on Zack’s mind. There were too many other possible explanations as to why Kelly would seek out that man.

"I meant thanks for the little speech you gave him back there."

Zack stopped and gave the man in his arms a stern look. "Let’s get a few things straight, _William._ You aren’t my friend. I might get to liking you, but you will never be my best friend. You are simply the guy borrowing my best friend’s body. You and Giles can sip your tea and talk about ancient Eastern philosophy all you want. Me and mine will share a pint while chatting over demons and women."

"Don’t forget cars and sports," Kelly added unhelpfully.

"I can’t be your enemy because there’s too much Spike in you. But I can’t be your chum, either, because there isn’t enough. It’s like Spike has a multiple personality disorder and I like one better. You and Giles can go tell each other your innermost secrets because that’s not how Spike and I work." With that, he walked through the doors to the medical wing that Kelly held open for him.

"But you have," William whispered to the man.

"I can’t do this," Zack said as he placed William gently down and walked out.

*~*~*

Buffy glanced up, a bit startled when she heard her name murmured. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting, but she was fairly certain she had gone nowhere after leaving Spike—William—in the library.

It shouldn’t have surprised her to see him standing there, looking at her with concern. Nothing should have surprised her.

But it did.

Amazing. William could do her in with a simple look. With nothing more than his slightly tilted head, studying her. God, how could she have forgotten that look? Spike and William were so similar, but only William could make her feel completely emotionally naked in once glance. He was so cautious, so careful in each endeavor.

He looked at her like that and everything vanished.

"I’m sorry," Buffy murmured, remembering herself. "Did you say something?"

William smiled kindly and shrugged as much as he could with his hands in his pockets. "Just wondering how you are," he said, fully stepping into the room. "I know things here are wonkier than usual. You…with the way things were left between—"

Buffy held up a hand. "Don’t. Don’t apologize. Please. It wasn’t you. And he felt justified for saying what he did."

William cocked his head and smiled. "Feels weird," he said. "Talking about things I…he…whatever did in the third person when I remember it clearly."

At that she grinned. She couldn’t help it. "You have no idea. I always thought you were the same person, or at least I wanted to believe it. And you are on a level…but you aren’t. The entire concept is so confusing."

They laughed awkwardly, then the atmosphere got very tight.

"I was ready to, you know."

"What’s that, love?"

"Spend eternity with you." She averted her eyes quickly to escape his astonishment, focusing instead on the bright Gryffindor communal color scheme. "Back…those first few days…I tried to figure out why you did it. I mean, besides the obvious."

William nodded. "You were a crazed vampire bint."

"I was. But…" Buffy shook her head and buried her eyes in her waiting hands. "God, this is so weird. I thought I’d never…see you again. Those…what happened…it’s kind of a blur, you know? I knew it happened. I always knew. But…"

"Buffy, you don’t—"

"I think I do." The Slayer fought to her feet and edged behind the sofa, pacing long strides back and forth. "You…Will, you did so much. And I never got to thank you."

"You did."

"No, I—"

"Love, I’ve lived with you the past five years, in one form or another." His eyes twinkled in a way she found all too familiar. "I don’t have sodding amnesia. Perfect clarity. I’ve seen you every day. I’ve bloody well shagged you sideways."

She giggled, but it felt forced, even to her.

William smiled softly. "You’ve thanked me. But sweetheart, there was no thanks needed. Any man would’ve done the same."

"No, not any man." Buffy sighed and relaxed a little. "Just you. And Spike."

"Believe as I say, not as I think?" He arched a brow. "It’s funny. You’ve spent the better part of the last few years trying to convince me that—"

"I couldn’t understand. Not like I do now."

"Well, that’s bloody revolutionary. I still don’t get it, myself."

"You did. You got it then. That was why you wouldn’t…" Buffy eyes fell to the floor again, and she pursed her lips. "You wouldn’t give me what I wanted because you knew it wasn’t really what I wanted. Just the next best thing." She winced as he flinched. "Sorry."

"It’s fair, kitten."

"I did love you, you know. I did and do. I _do._ " Her vision blurred as she again fought to a seat before her legs failed her altogether. "So much. I want you to know that. It wasn’t because you were Spike, either. You’re an incredible man, Will."

A soft smile crossed his lips, his own eyes watering a bit. "Buffy," he began gently. "You don’t have to prove anything to me. I got you, love. I’ve gotten you for a long time now. Everything I did was or you, regardless of who’s steering. And I know you love me. Blows me the bloody hell away, after everything I put you through, but I know. It’s just…"

"It’s Spike that I…" Buffy sighed again. "I was trying to explain this to Kelly earlier, and I’m not sure I did very well. I love you, but I’m _in_ love with Spike. What we have…it’s so…"

"Incredible." William grinned.

"And you gave it to me." She trembled. "You gave up so much. You gave me _everything._ And I don’t deserve it. I did nothing but give you grief—"

"Bollocks." Before she could register what happened, Willim was by her side, drawing her into a comforting, however chaste embrace. Her arms curled around him—the body she knew so well, even if it was warmed in ways she couldn’t comprehend. "You gave me everything," he said. "More than I thought. God, if Giles had told me that going to Sunnyhell would’ve given me half as much as it did, he would’ve had to race me to the bloody airport. Still, I took so much from you. Got you killed. Got you sired. Got you—"

"Oh, don’t even." Buffy pulled away so she could see his eyes, instinctively leaning into his hand when he cupped her face. "That was my fault and we both know it. You tried so many times to get me to focus. You played at arm’s length and I pursued you. Getting you to _love_ me was more important than saving the world."

He shivered, a trembling breath rolling off his lips. "Then I should’ve told you sooner. I’ll never forgive myself for getting you killed, pet."

"That wasn’t—"

"If it hadn’t been for me, maybe Faith…" He stopped when she froze in his embrace. That horrible night was one she couldn’t exorcise from existence, no matter how hard she tried. "I’m so sorry about that."

Buffy clasped his wrist. "Don’t. Please." She forced a laugh and leaned into him. It’d be so easy to lose herself in his embrace. Warm and comforting. Familiar but different. "We’re going to lose our minds if we keep apologizing. I just want you to know I meant what I said. That’s important. Had things remained the way they were…had you made the deal with Lurkey…had it been _me_ who passed the tests—"

"Buf—"

"—I would have spent eternity with you. That always bothered me. You had just done this…unbelievable thing for me and the first thing I did in turn was jump Spike. I knew he was you…kind of…" She trembled. "I just thought I hated you for leaving me for a while. Thought it was damn presumptuous that you thought you knew what I needed. But you did. I woke up that first morning…and it was Spike…and I was so, so happy to see him I nearly forgot that you…what you…"

"Shhh." William leaned back, cradling her head to his shoulder. "Buffy, things haven’t changed all that radically. Not between us. I still love you, you love me. But I’m not what you need. I neer was. What you have with me…with Spike…the me that’s not here right now. It’s what I always wanted for."

"I love him so much," she confessed, sobbing. "And I…I…"

"You miss him."

"It’s been only a few hours."

"He’d be a wanker not to miss you, too…wherever he is."

Buffy smiled as best she could. "He’s right here, though. He’s always right here."

"In some form. Kitten, we’re the same in many ways. I don’t think me or the demon could rightly exist without the other. But I’m not him. Not completely. There’s a lot that we share…loving you…needing…and I’ve got a lot of him in me. But that’s…that’s as far as it goes." He rested his forehead against hers, placing his hand above her heart, studiously avoiding her breasts. "He’s here, love. Waiting. And I’m gonna do my damndest to get him back for you."

Buffy blinked. "What?"

"I love you. And I want what you want. You could always sire me, Buffy."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"It’s what he wanted, right? What _you_ wanted? Living like this is no life for me at all."

"I thought you were supposed to be the sensible twin."

"I am. Well, on most days." William sighed. "But I love you. And I want what you want. You won’t be happy unless he’s here with you. And I won’t be happy unless you’re happy. You should do it. Make me what I was." He looked her dead in the eyes. "So do it."

Buffy tilted her head. "You were right, you know."

"Huh’s that?"

"You…or Spike…whatever. You were right. About what I said earlier. I don’t think he believes that…that I love him like I do. I don’t think he’s ever believed it. But I do. Had you…had I just jumped you the moment I saw you, regardless of…" She broke briefly to shake her head. "That would’ve completely negated everything we have. Like, ‘Oh, I don’t care who you are. Just as long as you have a humungous cock to stick inside me.’"

William blinked, stared at her incredulously, then drew his head back and laughed. "Humungous?" he repeated, beaming with male pride.

"Oh, shut up."

"Love, in case you failed to notice, _I’m a guy._ Calling my bits and pieces humungous…well, it’s quite nice, actually."

"The point is, I can’t…I can’t with you. Anything. Whatever you expect from me besides friendship…I love you to death, Will. I do. But you’re not my husband."

The smile slowly faded from his face, though not from disappointment. More with the serious one-track understanding of something he had already accepted, regardless of concern. "I know," he said. "I didn’t expect you to leap into the sack with me. And despite what was said earlier, I don’t think Spike did, either."

"You don’t?"

"Well, we are sharing a body, but it was getting kinda muddled. Like thought waves were crossing and what-all. Bloody strange experience, if you ask me."

"Yeah, really strange." Buffy sighed again. "I just…I don’t know if I’ll ever…Will…what if that was it? Whatif I let you—him—walk off in a huff and think that…God, I should’ve followed him. Should have been there through it all. Should’ve held his hand and made him believe I—"

"Sweetheart…" He tilted her head so their eyes met. "It’s okay," he murmured. "Really. I wanna share this with you. I want you to be my sire. I wanna give you everything, love. Even if that means going away. I can handle it. I have before."

"Will, no. I can’t be that selfish."

"It’s not selfish if I want you to."

"Just because I want you to. Because of what I want."

He shook his head. "No. You think I get nothing outta this? Out’ve an eternity with you? You really think a part of me’s not there _all the time?_ You’re a daft woman. Me and my demon are closer than…well, any I’ve read about."

There was a hefty pause.

"Would it still be him?"

"What?"

"I know when Dru killed Darla again…it was Darla. But was that just because of the Order or what?"

More silence, then he grinned at her. Slowly. "This body’s known the essence of one demon for nearly a century and a half, love. It’s been marked thoroughly. Once marked, it’s spoiled for any other demon. So’s yours. And Angel’s. And Darla’s. And Dru. The bloodline of the Order has nothing to do with it."

Her eyes narrowed. "You’re not just saying that, are you?"

"Buffy, this is serious. I wouldn’t do anything to put you in danger, or take all forms of the man you love away completely. If I’m sired again—doesn’t matter by who—it’ll be Spike who comes back." William’s gaze burned hers. "But I want you to do it. It’s potent stuff, being sired. Like I—he—whatever…like what we talked about, earlier. The bond between sire and childe is…well, bloody indescribable."

She appeared to consider it, which was closer than any other mark had come. Strange that she needed to hear it from William before the thought began to cross the lines from possibility to option.

"Good sex?" she asked.

He grinned. "Fantastic sex."

"Better than now?"

"Hard to believe, but yes." He studied her. "You’re kidding, though…right?"

"Of course I am."

"Just making sure."

She chuckled humorlessly. "With as much as I love our very-active sex life, there’s more to my relationship with Spike than…well, that."

"I know." He gestured. "Been there, remember?"

A few more minutes of contemplative silence passed between them. Buffy rested against the sofa and thought. William leaned back to his respective side of the settee and watched her. He knew she could hear his heart pounding.

Then she looked up, and everything fell apart.

"I can’t," she whispered. "I can’t take a life…even if…I can’t become Dr. Kevorkian for the undead, you hear me? Especially if it’s for…for something this selfish." Her eyes watered. "But I can’t live my life without him either, can I? I mean, you’re here…and I love that you’re here…but Spike…I need him. I need—"

"Hey there," William murmured, automatically taking her back into his embrace. Her head fit so naturally against his shoulder, and her trembling body made his own go weak. Seeing her in such a state was nothing he needed, especially after all that had happened, but he didn’t know how to make it better. "There’s no need for tears, love. Something wonky happened to me on the way.We’ll find out what it was and get it fixed. All right?"

Buffy stilled for a moment, her tears drying. There was nothing to do but nod, even if her heart wasn’t in it. "All right," she whispered against his throat.

Both heard the emptiness in her words, and similarly let it slide.


	19. Chapter 19

It was quite an unusual sensation—experiencing jealousy in place of someone else. The thought alone was cringe-worthy, and while Zack toyed with his vast array of other options, nothing else rang true. 

He was resentful—upset and hurt—in place of Spike when he pushed the door to the Gryffindor common room open and saw Buffy curled in William’s embrace. So that was how it was. The woman his best friend had pined over, bloody well worshipped since the day they were united and God-knows how long before that, could forget her so-called profession of love and leap into the willful arms of the next best thing with no reservations. 

This was going to tear Spike apart when he got back. 

And he would get back. Zack was resolved in that. William was likely a nice guy, but he wasn’t Spike. He wasn’t his friend. 

Though from the looks of it, Buffy didn’t care a damn. 

"So nice to know that he can count on you," he spat, "to be loyal when he needs it the most." 

William and Buffy glanced up in surprise, the latter unable to help the hurt that flashed across her face. "Zack!" she gasped, though notably while making no move to escape the platinum vampire’s arms. "I wasn’t…we were just…" 

"You know, you’re constantly preaching to the lot of us what this entire ‘vampire soul-versus-no-soul’ thing entails. I know he looks like Spike, but that’s not Spike, Buffy." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And if I know that, I should really hope that you know that. Or maybe you do and you just don’t care. Doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as he sticks it to you—" 

"That’s enough, mate," William growled, delicately removing himself from the Slayer’s embrace. "I got it that you don’t particularly like me, and that’s fine and bloody dandy. All the sodding better, right? Make things easy when I go through the Big Change Part…oh, who’s even following anymore? And though you might hate the thought of it, know that I do bloody know you quite well, Morris. But you know me ‘bout as far as you could toss the lady here without having her break your sodding arms. Y’get me? We’re not doing anything. We were just…catching up." 

Zack’s eyes widened incredulously. "Catching up," he repeated. "Because you have no idea what’s been going on since you took that magical mind walk to somewhere that’s else? Please! I wasn’t born yesterday. I know perfectly well what I walked in on." 

"Yeah." William agreed, brows arching. "Just like you knew what you walked in on when I, when ‘e…" He trailed off with a grumble and tossed an annoyed look to Buffy. "This has gotta end if only to know what tense to talk in," he informed her before glancing back to Zack. "When I was holding dear Kelly’s hair back so she could yack? You seemed to know a bloody lot then, mate. And look where that got you." 

At that, his eyes softened. The annoyingly not-Spike Cockney had a point. Hadn’t he consigned to himself not an hour ago that he wouldn’t jump to any more conclusions? Still, he wasn’t going to give up that simply. This was different. Buffy was married to Spike. Buffy had had a relationship with William prior to said marriage. Finding them in each other’s arms couldn’t be a matter of unfortunate timing. 

Or, well, it could. But he had to play his cards right. He had to know. 

"This is different," he said slowly. "You two have…a history. Yeah, I don’t exactly have the four/one/one on what that history entails, but I think I have more right to accuse you of—" 

"I wouldn’t do that," Buffy said. "Not to Spike. Not after everything…" 

"Because you never have before?" 

"Oi, mate. Standing right here!" 

Zack glared at him. "Are you really going to make me go back on the ‘can’t be your enemy’ thing? Because I can be. And gotta say, pulse-boy, right now, I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with me. Who knows how many unresolved issues might come out?" 

"We weren’t doing anything!" William practically shouted. Then the humor of the situation finally caught up with him, and he dissolved into a foray of chuckles. Buffy and Zack exchanged a puzzled look, and glanced back to him. 

"God, we are something else," William decided, sitting up. He looked at Zack, shaking his head. "You’re worried ‘bout Buffy playing around behind her husband’s back…with her husband. Not that I’m him or anything, but can you really call that infidelity? She’s not, though. I wouldn’t sleep with her, anyway. Not knowing I’m not the one she wants." He spared Buffy a brief glance at that to let her know wordlessly that, yes, while such knowledge didn’t make him feel like bursting out into glorious song, he could deal with it. "I love her too much to use her to get my rocks off just ‘cause me and her hubby share a few personality quirks, ruggedly handsome good looks, and a body to die for. ‘Sides, I don’t fancy being used. Not unless it’s real. And if you knew anything about our relationship before, you’d know I’m telling the truth." 

Slowly, Zack averted his gaze to Buffy, who nodded in turn. 

"I tried," she said. "Several times. To get him to…" She flushed as best she could and trailed off. "I thought he was what I wanted. But Will…he always knew it was Spike for me all along." 

"Not that we didn’t come close or anything," William quickly amended as though his manhood was at stake. "We did. We were captured by the Master an’…then she said ‘Spike’ instead of ‘Will’ and kinda buggered that up—" 

Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably. "Uhhh, Will. That’s…that’s just fine. We don’t have to prove—" 

"Then right before the mess with Abraxas. Almost…" He froze and glanced off speculatively. "Well, as I recall, something did happen that night." 

"But not with…" The Slayer’s eyes widened and she looked quickly to Zack, who was no longer angry. He was trying to keep from laughing at Buffy’s antics. Never had he suspected he would stand there and watch her try to shut up the, well, that wasn’t true either. But it wasn’t like her to get so flustered about it, especially if there were no children present. "There was no intercourse. There was just…ummm…" 

"She needed a happy without getting…well, happy," William said matter-of-factly. It was spoken with such blunt ease that the other occupants briefly forgot that he indeed wasn’t Spike. "Lest she turn into that Porphy bitch. I was just there. It was me or Peaches, and luckily, the Slayer has some sense." 

"No," Buffy snapped suddenly. "You weren’t just there, Will. I loved you. I…I was always…Spike was whom I wanted, but I did love you. You’ve gotta believe that. You gave up so much…and you need to know that…that it wasn’t just…" She gave up with a sigh and glanced to Zack. "This is so…confusing. Like being visited by an old boyfriend but not. Because he is…he’s Spike, but he’s not." 

"I don’t wanna confuse you, love," William assured her, immediately setting to leave her alone. "We don’t know how long this little arrangement’s gonna last, but with the Scoobies on the case, I’d wager everything’ll be back to normal. Let’s just leave it at this. I love you, you love me but not-like-that, Ripper’s my chum, Zangy—" He met Zack’s eyes and quickly amended. "Morris can’t stand the thought of me, and you’re off and hitched to my wicked twin. Seems all it’s right as rain." 

At that, the fire completely doused from Zack’s gaze and he fell compassionate once more, taking a step forward. "Hey, man," he said. "It’s not like that. And you know it. It’s just…this is a little…the timing really sucks. After all that’s happened…I just want my friend back." 

"And he appreciates it," the other man reassured him with a smile. "More’n he’ll ever tell you." 

"I wouldn’t expect him to tell me anything," Zack agreed. "It’d be too poncy." 

To that, William simply grinned. There was nothing else to do. A few minutes of uncomfortable silence settled over the three before William finally made his move for the door. "Listen," he said. "I’m gonna go get some quality time with Ripper. Have a feeling he’s gonna resent the lot of you when ole Spike’s back in action." 

"Someone sure thinks highly of himself," Buffy teased lightly, though there was no malice behind her tone. 

"Well, come on. A world without me? Bleeding tragedy." He returned her grin in the same fashion. "I appreciate everything you said, kitten. It won’t go forgotten. An’…’m sorry. For everything." 

"There’s nothing to be sorry about," she assured him. "And hey—you get our room tonight. I mean mine and Spike’s room. I’m going to go stay with Wills…ow." 

Zack arched a brow. "Willsow?" 

She shrugged. "It’s been a while since I’ve needed to elaborate." 

A frown had marred William’s brow. "We’re not going to…like before? When I just…" 

And welcome in the incursion of memories. While Zack had no way of knowing what it was that Buffy was remembering, the look on her face left little to the imagination. He knew the other man was likely only requesting a chaste night of cuddling, but even that thought left him with an uncomfortable taste in his mouth. 

"I…" she began slowly. "I don’t think…under the circumstances…that it’s a good idea. I…it’s just not the way it was before, Will. Is that…is that going to be all right?" 

The disappointment was manifest on his face, and for a minute, Zack felt a pang of sympathy for the man. It was very clear that his feelings for the Slayer had not suffered any hindrance, and while it might be a bit much to ask, snuggling next to the one he loved was one thing he had thought to relish in during the brief time they had together. 

"I just don’t think it’s a good idea," she finished lamely. 

"Yeah, yeah…" William said, coming back to himself. "’S probably for the better and everything." 

Awkward much?

"I’ll talk to Willow—" 

"No, that’s not necessary," he insisted. "I can stay with—" 

"Giles? Sheesh, aren’t we feeling redundant?" 

"The word ‘poofter’ does come to mind," Zack agreed. 

William pouted. "Well, fine. Guess I could always room with Red. She was a chum back in the day, too." 

Buffy and Zack exchanged another uncomfortable glance. "That’s not a good either," the latter informed the shadow of his friend. "Remember with the entire Oz-thing." 

The pained look that crossed William’s face clearly informed him that he did. 

"And we still haven’t decided if she was one of the causes that made…that did this," the Slayer concluded. "I was hoping to discuss that with her tonight. So don’t argue with me. You deserve a night to sleep in a comfy bed…all by yourself." 

The very same comfy bed that they had made love in all day. 

William pursed his lips. "Right. Okay, then…if that’s what…" He trailed off uncomfortable. "I’ll just go…talk to Ripper. See you later." 

It wasn’t until they were alone that the Slayer decided to address the predetermined status of her marital fidelity. There were a few things she wanted to get straight once and for all.

"Listen," she began. "I know what it looked like when you walked in—" 

Zack held up his hands. "Buffy—" 

"—and maybe if it had been a few years ago, you would’ve been right—" 

"Buf—" 

"But my relationship with Spike is completely different than it was when William first came into my life. He had just…disappeared for four years, and suddenly he was back." She stifled a sob at her own words—the memory still fresh, despite the years of marriage. "He came back…with Giles, of all people…and I found out that they had been working together ever since he…ever since the…the attempted…" 

Zack began fidgeting. While this part of their relationship had always been an area of curiosity, he knew better than to directly ask. Neither Buffy nor Spike cared to refer to the attack in the bathroom, and while he knew it had taken place and what had provoked it, it always made him feel uncomfortable to know that firstly, Spike was capable of such monstrosity, and secondly, Buffy had so uncaringly pushed him to such an extreme. It only made him appreciate their current relationship more, such to the point where he was feeling lousy for the kissage in the hallway all over again. 

As if reading his thoughts, Buffy held up a hand for clarification. "For the record," she said, "that wasn’t his fault. Not entirely. I was a complete and utter monster that year. That year…everything fell apart. I was feeling…empty. Like I was dead but not. Like my rest had been robbed from me. And I knew that Spike loved me, so I decided to use him for sex to feel something that wasn’t…that wasn’t nothing. I used him shamelessly, and I hate myself for it. And yeah…I did…feel something for him. Something gross and unnatural and completely different from what we have now. But I hurt him so much because I couldn’t admit it. Couldn’t admit that I felt something more than an admiration for his dick." Zack did a double take at the crude reference coming from her mouth. It was so rare that the Slayer got impertinent in that fashion. "So he reacted. Badly. I pushed and shoved and beat him—literally—telling him he wasn’t worth my time or affection unless I decreed it so. Fucked his brains out more than once—and vice versa—all the while never looking him in the eyes because I didn’t want to see the…the love there. I think I wanted to fuck the love right out of him, hoping if I abused it enough, it would go away. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at me while we were fucking. To see that he didn’t hate me for the way I was so blatantly using him." She caught his second flinch at the crudeness that so willfully escaped her lips. "That’s what it was, Zack. Fucking. There was no emotion—not from me. I wanted a good, hard fuck, and bless his heart, he gave it to me. Every time. When he tried to make it about candor and tenderness and love and everything I couldn’t stand him to give me, I’d beat on him some more. I needed him to fuck me, not to make love to me. And I don’t know why I thought I could get away with it. When…what happened in the bathroom…that was sort of Spike’s breaking point. And I still made it all about me. 

"Then he left. After what happened in the bathroom, he couldn’t…I guess he couldn’t live with himself. I didn’t see him again for nearly four years. But I thought about him. Every…god, it felt like I thought of nothing else. I wore his duster everywhere I went; terrified that Xander would recognize whom it belonged to. My anger toward my friends for bringing me back to life slowly went away, and I began to enjoy life. Except for one thing: he wasn’t there to enjoy it with me. I needed to apologize. To beg forgiveness for everything I’d done. To atone. To try to make up for abusing his love without caring how much it destroyed him. And he came back…and he pretended to be Spike. He pretended as much as he could…but he wasn’t. He was William. And GOD that nearly destroyed me. I still remember where I was when I found out. We were patrolling and…and I told him that I forgave him…that I loved him…and he couldn’t take it. He fell to his knees sobbing. And I knew. I knew it wasn’t him. And I was so angry. I was so angry that he had left me, that he was gone—completely gone. I wanted to…God, I don’t even know what I wanted. But Will told me that Spike had gone off and gotten himself a soul because he thought that’s what I deserved. What he needed to make sure he never…never…" She was crying in earnest now, but hardly reacting to the tears pouring down her face at the montage of memories coming through. Zack remained stationary, knowing that while she was telling him, this was more for her own closure than anything else. "He never once blamed me for the way I behaved. He never demanded an apology. Never expected anything. God, he thought I was crazy for needing to apologize in the first place. Like I had been a perfect angel and he just attacked me ‘cause he felt like it. 

"Things began to develop from there. I needed to get to know him all over again…see what was left of the man I loved. William was good to me, but I think I pressed the issue too much. I wanted to love him, because he was the only Spike I had left. But he always knew. He knew that he wasn’t the one I wanted. I allowed myself to get killed. Sired. He blamed himself for that, too. Still does. I grew to love him, don’t get me wrong. What happened between William and me was very real. And I wouldn’t take it back for anything. But it wasn’t enough…and he knew it. He knew it the entire time. And yeah, while I was prepared to spend eternity with him, and while I was somewhat pissed when I opened my eyes after he made that sacrifice—that completely mind-boggling-god-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this-kind-of-love sacrifice—and saw that he was gone…I was so grateful. He had given me everything. My faith, my soul, and now the one I wanted was back in my arms. The one I really wanted. And I knew then…looking at Spike as he made sure I was…all right…that every reservation William had had in reaffirming his affections was spot on. Because there was no way that I could’ve ever loved him like I loved Spike. Spike had gone out and gotten himself a soul…Will sacrificed the same." 

There was a few seconds as she caught her lack of breath, shaking her head. "The only reason something happened between William and me is because I was so sure Spike was gone. Because Spike had given me William…a token of what he thought I deserved. If Spike and I had had the sort of relationship we do now before he left for Africa—of course assuming that he still would’ve gone to Africa—there would’ve been nothing between me and Will at all. But that was all I had. He gave up so much for me, and he has to live knowing he’s not the one I want. That I’d prefer a soulless, evil demon in his place. And not regret a minute of it. So when…when you walked in…" 

Zack held up a hand and smiled. There was no reason to make her go through another lengthy tangent, especially if it was within the hindsight of understanding. Such was not needed—not like her closure was. "It’s all right, Buffy," he assured her. "I…I guess I just…need to stop jumping to conclusions. I just don’t want to see him hurt again. This trip’s done a number on all of us." 

"Yeah," she agreed, voice hoarse. "It really, really has." 

He nodded tacitly and moved for the door. "You probably should go talk to Willow," he observed. "And I’ll go join the guys in the library." 

"Okay." 

"Buffy." 

"Yeah?" 

A hesitant pause. How was he supposed to say this? "Thanks…for trusting me. For telling me." 

There was nothing for a minute, but slowly, a small smile crossed her face. "You’re welcome, Zack. Anytime."

*~*~* 

A knock to Willow’s door stirred her out of her reverie. She wasn’t surprised to see Buffy standing on the opposite side. In truth, she had been expecting it for a while now. 

"I didn’t do it on purpose," was her hasty greeting. 

The Slayer paused and pursed her lips. "But you did do it." 

The Witch sighed and stepped aside, motioning for her friend to come inward. "I don’t know," she whispered a minute later. "I remember wishing something horrible happen to him. It’s just…it hurts so much, Buff. And I know it wasn’t his fault. I know that he had…if he hadn’t stopped Oz; you’d all be wolf-meat. I know that. But GOD, I wanted…I needed to do something…I needed…" 

There were a few minutes of silence. Neither knew exactly what to say. 

"Well," Buffy began slowly. "At least you didn’t rip his skin off. That’s a good." 

The shadow of a grin crossed the Witch’s face. "Yeah." It didn’t last; in a minute, she was frowning again. "I guess I was more angry with myself than anything." 

"Oh? How you figure?" 

"Oz…he wolfed because of me. And he died because of me. And…I still…it doesn’t hurt as much as…" 

The unspoken implication needed no name, but that didn’t stop Buffy from giving it one. "Tara." 

"Yeah," Willow replied hoarsely. 

"You’re upset because you’re not more upset?" 

"I’m upset because if I had just been honest with myself the entire time, it wouldn’t have…" Her eyes watered effortlessly. "I just don’t know who I’m crying over, Buffy! I loved Oz, don’t get me wrong. I really, really did. But I…Tara was my everything. She…she meant so much…what I had with her was completely different from what I had with Oz, and I think by the time that everything had…I think it was too late to even go back to him. And so, yeah, his dying. That’d be my fault. It was just…easy to blame Spike." 

The Slayer pursed her lips. She didn’t want to push her friend, but at the same time, she was desperate to get her husband back. The words that poured from Willow’s mouth rang as true. There was no doubting that. 

Bugger it. She wanted Spike back. If she was being selfish, fine, but she didn’t think she was. Especially if the Witch meant what she said. The beginning steps to healing meant correcting what had gone wrong, and right now, Spike being of the pulse-having nature was definitely wrong. 

"So…" she began slowly. "Unblame him." 

"I’ve…tried." 

"What?" 

"God, Buffy. I’ve tried. Really. I’ve been trying to take it back ever since…but it won’t. My magic…it…" Willow sighed heavily and shook her head. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to take him away from you. It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. It really wasn’t. But it won’t go away. I’m trying so hard to make it go away and it won’t!" 

"You mean…" 

"Unless Giles finds an alternative solution…" Willow threw her hands up. "We’re stuck with a human Spike." 

"William," Buffy automatically corrected, not really hearing herself. 

"Did I mention the sorry part?" 

"He’s…" The Slayer began to crumple. "He’s really gone. Oh God, Will, he’s really, really gone." 

"Unless you sire him."

"I won’t." 

The Witch pursed her lips. "How’s that any different than finding a spell? Either way, he’d end up dead and soulless. Why not the manual way?" 

Buffy sent her a look that could cut through iron. 

"Okay, okay. I get it." In truth, she didn’t. She just thought it safer to not agitate the Slayer/vamp. 

A few minutes of uncomfortable, contemplative silence ensued. 

"Well," Willow said as an afterthought. "I could always give Angelus a permanent soul. Then you two could…" She trailed off when she felt Buffy’s disbelieving eyes prying away her heart, layer by layer. There had never been rage that pure and unadulterated. The sort that demanded, ‘How could you even suggest that’? 

"Kidding," the Witch quickly amended. 

And this time, she meant it. 

*~*~*

"Are you having fun, Joshua?" Donna asked as she sat under the shade of a willow tree and watched him chasing Rosie round in the grassy meadow. 

"You better believe it," he said as he lunged to grab hold of the giggling girls waste. As the sun got closer to setting, Donna noticed the glowing aura that glistened through their hair. Watching him run through a grassy meadow playing with a little girl as his socks and shoes lay somewhere discarded, reaffirmed the secret something she had known for years. 

She loved this man. 

Josh was not lost on the irony of the situation. He never dreamed of being where he was right not. Not the simple fact that he was trapped in a bewitched castle with demons, spells and wizards that he would never had dreamed of, but the fact that he was in a tickling contest with a four-year-old. Not only was he in the meadow, but he was enjoying it. And best of all: he knew that she was checking him out. 

He knew that she was sitting under the tree propping herself up on one hand as she watched in awe. He knew that she didn’t know this side of him anymore than he did. They knew the hard working, determined minded politician and man. He was ashamed to admit that she even knew the lonely and desperate Josh. And petty immature Josh. She saw his caring side and knew the loyalty that he could exert; toward his friends, family, President and her. She knew that she took a bullet for Bartlet and that he would for her in a heartbeat. But the loving sweet and fatherly side was new. 

_I hate kids._ He knew that he had decided long ago that children were not in his futures. 

"Shouldn’t you be going home to the missus for some baby-making time?" Donna teased one night as the clock struck one. 

"There is no missus," Josh retorted. "And can you hand me that file I had earlier." He searched around his desk, but it seemed lost in the abyss. 

She picked it up instantly and put it in his waiting hand, "You might have a missus if you actually left the West Wing once and a while." 

"I do," he said, almost offended. 

"I’m not counting the Hill or doing down to the cafeteria." She stopped him when she saw him open his mouth. "No. Not going home to shower and change either." 

"If you’re insinuating that I have no life you’re wrong. I date." 

"The wrong women." Donna’s eyes got wide as she turned to walk out. She had never meant for her to say that to his face. 

"What?" he grasped her wrist and turned her back around. He wasn’t angry, but simply wanted her to elaborate. 

"I’m sorry," She apologized. It was inappropriate as his subordinate, but she was sorrier because she had insulted him as a friend. "Let’s drop it. It’s late." 

"Donna," he said in his tone that said with one word ‘this isn’t going to be dropped until you tell me what I want-the truth’. 

"What I was meaning," she tried to look away, but he tipped her chin back up to meet his eyes. She almost got lost in them right there. "Joey and the others. They abuse you. They never understand you and…" 

"Amy," he provided. He knew she wouldn’t bash his current love interest. "You’re trying to say that aside from the political ideals, she and I have no future? That our personal interests are the only thing keeping us together?" 

"Umm…yeah." 

"Well too bad. I’m marrying her!" 

"What?!?" 

Josh broke out into rich chuckles. "I’m kidding." It took a minute to decide whether to take cover under his desk, but eventually he continued. "No. I realized long ago that me and Amy had no chance. In fact, I don’t see myself having any chance with anyone in Washington." 

"Huh?" Donna couldn’t help but look panicked. Josh saw it, too. The funny thing was they both saw the tension.

"If I have a real relationship, it won’t be based on politics. And I can’t have one any other way."

"See. That’s why you need to get out of the White House."

"It depends on what I want." He looked at her without a bit of the playful humor normally hidden in his gaze.

"What do you want?" She asked breathlessly. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"What I can’t have." The tension almost choked them. He slowly averted his eyes back to the files before him. "So, in consolation, will you get me some more coffee?"

That was as close as they had gotten. The kiss that occurred those few years ago was blown off as the insanity of that fateful night. Everything else had occurred since they had arrived. 

"Josh," Donna called bringing him back to the present. 

"Yeah?" He said turning to face her. They were shouting since a good thirty feet of open space was between them. 

"Are you OK?" she had stood up and was walking over. 

"Why?" He said taking the defensive. 

As she neared, she dropped her voice in volume, now she stood no more than ten feet away. "You’ve been standing in the same spot for nearly five minutes. Rosie was calling to you, but you didn’t seem to notice. I think she was beginning to think that she had given you a heart attack." 

"Oh." He shook his head to remove the last cobwebs of memory than began looking around for the child. "Where?" 

"She’s right over there." She pointed a few feet away directly behind him. "She decided to pick everyone flowers." 

"I see. Well, I guess I was getting a little out of breath." Josh was telling no lie, but Donna could see that it wasn’t all the truth either. 

"Wanna sit?" She asked gesturing to the tree she was once under. He nodded and they walked back together. As soon as they were both situated on the ground Donna asked, "What were you thinking?" 

"When?" 

"Just a minute ago. And don’t tell me that you went into a daze on the budget mark-up because I know it wasn’t." 

"If you assume so much, then why don’t you tell me what I was thinking." 

Donna fidgeted a little. "Because I’m guessing here. I have no clue." 

"Really?" He mocked causing her to throw one of his socks at him. "Are you saying, Donnatella, that you might not know what you’re talking about?" 

I’m saying," she began before muttering the rest. "That you might have been thinking about the budget marl-up for all I know." 

"If it makes you feel better," Josh said with a smile. "I wasn’t." 

"Then what? Because for a moment you were having a smile." 

"You thought I was grinning about budget mark-ups? I wouldn’t grin," he paused for a moment before adding airily, "Unless the Republicans are getting stiffed on that defense package they wanting to include last minute—" 

"Josh. Hello. Averting subject." 

"I know," he beamed. "But you were right. No politics." 

"Then what were you thinking about." She stopped him before he got a chance to speak. "And no cute little jokes. One word. And be honest." 

"Fine," he said with a nod. "You." 

"Huh?" The blush that came to her cheeks was priceless. She had turned red in record time. Since the show was normally on the other foot, He took a moment to sit back and enjoy. 

"Me?" He nodded. "Then elaborate." 

He laughed before fulfilling her request. "I was thinking about you. To get specific, I think I stopped running when I recalled a particular time in my office." 

"But…why?" 

"Honesty you said?" She nodded. "Because I think that I’m in l—" 

"Donna!" Rosie said running over with a gigantic handful of flowers. "Aren’t the purdy?" 

Donna was on the verge of tears. One glance at the blushing man beside her confirmed that he was about to declare his true affection before the child came in. Of all the timing in the world, Josh Lyman proved to have the absolute worst. 

"Sure are," Josh sighed disappointedly as he patted Rosie’s head. "Let’s go take them in for your mom to see." With that he grabbed his shoes and stood up. 

Donna sat with her mouth gaping open in shock. She was frustrated and disappointed more than ever. She knew that she wasn’t imaging what he was about to say, but the doubt was winning out once again. She didn’t know how long he stood above her with his hand patiently waiting, but she looked up to see him there with a smile on his face. 

"Come on," he said hoisting her up. He leaned over and whispered. "Should have known better. The moment was getting too good." With that he leaned over and did something that neither one expected. He gently brought his lips to her to give her a soft passion-filled kissed. It lasted no more than a minute, but in their hearts, it sealed a lifetime. 

*~*~*

Zack said nothing as he walked into the library. He noticed that William was already back to work by Giles’s side. He noticed that Xander, Anya, and Dawn had all joined in the efforts along with Wesley, Cordy and Lorne. He noticed his wife too and approached her as she studied in concentration on one of the translated ancient texts. 

"Hey," he whispered as he bent down to kiss the top of her head. 

"Zack," she gasped as she jumped from her broken concentration. "How is everything?" 

He pulled a chair up beside her and sat down. "I dunno. You tell me. You guys found anything yet?" 

"Not a bleeding thing." She frowned at her vocabulary. Zack couldn’t help but smile at the way she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I think we hang out with them too much, Zack," she whispered. 

"You’re probably a bit too right ‘bout that, love," Zack said in his best Cockney. It immediately caused the couple to erupt into giggles. 

"What are they laughing at?" Anya pouted. "No one should have fun here unless they share." 

Xander glanced over to see Zack put his arm around his wife as they laughed. 

"Shhh." Zack said as he tried to quiet her down. When that didn’t help, he leaned over and kissed her. 

"I have a feeling that we might not wanna know," Xander said with a nod as he turned back to the books before him. 

"Well," Kelly sighed moments later when he pulled away. She whispered, "If I giggle, will you do that again?" 

"Depends," Zack said saucily. "What do I have to do to make you giggle?" 

"TMI!" Dawn said as she heard the very end on the conversation. 

"Sorry," Kelly blushed. "It’s not as bad as you think." 

"Well, either way, I don’t want to know what Zack does to make you happy." 

"Dawnie!" Zack snapped as everyone turned in response to the girl’s loud spoken words. He quieted his voice down to a harsh whisper. "And it was giggle." 

"Is there a difference?" She countered. 

"Yes," he hissed. "But the point is this. No sex was involved in the conversation." 

"Sure," Anya said rolling her eyes. "What else would make a married couple giggle in a stuffy old library?" 

"Comics?" Xander unhelpfully provided. "What?" He said when he noticed the looks thrown his direction. "I was just trying to help." 

"Can’t we have a private joke or two?" Zack questioned. 

"Reason thirty-three: They don’t get interrogated all the time." Her husband nodded his agreement. 

"What are you talking about?" Wesley asked. 

"Aww," Lorne said interceding on behalf of the couple. "They’ve had a hard few days. You lovebirds should be off lighting you’re your fire." 

"Work now," Kelly responded. 

"Play later," her husband added with a cheeky grin. 

None wanted to comment so all turned back to their work. A few minutes later Kelly tugged on his sleeve as they thumbed through the same book. 

"Huh?" Zack said looking up at her. 

She whispered softly. "I’m sorry about earlier. I just felt…I need to know what happened with me and Slater." 

"That’s all right," He brought his arms around her again. "For once, I wasn’t having any jealous assumptions. I’m just glad that things didn’t get worse." 

"Me too, Zack-Man." 

"Ha ha," he said dryly as his wife stifled another giggle. He kissed her forehead before reaching over with his free arm to retrieve another book from her stack. "Let’s hope that this turns up something." 

Hey began scanning through and it took a matter of minutes before Kelly pointed out two random words on the page. He knew that he had heard of them before, but it took a moment before his eyes grew wide with realization. "Is that…?" 

Kelly nodded enthusiastically. "It makes sense." 

"But it couldn’t be," he glanced over to a studious William. "Could it?" 

"After endless hours of research, it’s the best we’ve got." 

"But what about everything else? What’s up with that?" 

"Hello!" Cordelia barked. "Either tell us what you’re talking about or shut up. Some of us are trying to concentrate." 

"You’re right," Zack said leaning over to give his wife a quick peck before standing up and taking the book over to Giles. 

When the Watcher laid eyes upon the open text, his jaw dropped with disbelief. He adjusted his glances and squinted at the text somehow thinking that more information would vivaciously pour out. He absently muttered, "You might be right, Kelly." 

"What?" Xander said leaning over. 

Wesley walked over and took a brief glance over Giles’s shoulder before gasping in realization. "The Shanshu prophecy." 

"You mean…?" William gulped. 

"You were the chosen one all along," Giles said looking up in astonishment. He paused a moment before nodding to himself and saying, "Makes sense. While we always believed that Angel would fulfill it, the past few years most certainly would set him back in the running." 

"But why now?" Dawn couldn’t help but ask. 

"We can’t question the fates, tootsie," Lorne said tossing down the text he had been mulling over. "Must’ve thought that sweetcheeks here was going to help," he motioned to the platinum blonde. 

"I think we should have a mini party for William," Kelly said. "At least some milk and cookies. I think of all the bad that’s going on, we deserve a little celebration." 

"No offense," Buffy said striding in, "But what’s there to celebrate?" 

Giles stood up. "We believe that we figured out our current dilemma. It seems that the Shanshu prophecy has been filled. By Spike." 

"Huh?" Was all that Buffy could say in response. 

"Doesn’t it make sense?" Dawn reflected. 

"All except for the fact that Willow admitted that she did it." 

"Red did it?" William said speaking up for the first time sense he became subject of conversation. 

"Yeah. She was a little bitter and her magic mojo got a little wonky. She didn’t mean to, but what’s done is done." 

"Oh," Wesley said sadly as he flopped back down and picked up his book again. 

"So we figured out what happened with Spike, but we’re still nowhere with everything else," Xander sulked.

"I can make some cocoa," Kelly said meekly. 

Zack gave his wife a smile before starting. "So let’s get this straight. We’re currently trapped in a castle by a cannibal and two of the world’s nastiest vamps. We figure that they are keeping us here while evil taking place out there. Then, we have Spike’s chip removed and paranoia causing all of us to get more edgy than normal."

"Don’t forget Slater," Buffy pointed out. 

"Like we could," William muttered. 

"Yeah, and all this started with Slater." 

"I think that’s about it." 

"Huh uh,’ Kelly said slowly. "Well maybe." She turned to William. "Didn’t you say that Dumbledore removed your chip?" 

"Yeah. Called it a sodding gift." 

Zack turned to Buffy. "Didn’t you tell me that Dumbledore denied it completely?" 

"He didn’t know what I was talking about," the Slayer said perplexed. 

Giles sighed as he slumped in his chair. "I fear that things may have just gotten worse." 

A collective groan sounded throughout the library. 

"Worse?" Buffy asked weakly. "I shudder to think of how things could possibly get worse than they are right now." 

Dawn shrugged. "Hogwarts could be invaded by an army of killer bunnies." She quickly averted her eyes to the vengeance demon to catch her sure-fire reaction. 

And Anya, true to form, did not disappoint. She practically leapt a mile in the air and landed oh-so inconspicuously in Xander’s arms. "BUNNIES?!" 

William snickered appreciatively, nudging Giles in the ribs with his elbow. "That’d be right amusing," he speculated. "Just like in The Holy Grail. Y’know? ‘S’ the rabbit!’ and all that." 

"Ah," the Watcher chortled favorably. Then, to everyone’s grave awe and more-potent horror, the two began to quote the film. In sync. "You silly sod! You got us all worked up!" 

Spike didn’t miss a beat, eyes sparkling with the thrill of recitation. "Well, that's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on." 

"You tit! I soiled my armor, I was so scared!" 

William was starting to lose it, but kept up all the same. "Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide, it's a killer!" 

Zack nudged Buffy fearfully. "Should we be afraid?" 

"Get stuffed!" Giles yelled in time with his cue. 

"It'll do you a trick, mate!" William retaliated. 

The Slayer blinked but shook her head just the same. A look of nostalgia was on her face, even while warring with the more innate sense of loss. Watching the form of her husband cheer on with his once-best chum. Knowing that he might be the closest she got to Spike from here on out, and not even long enough to outlast eternity. "Nah," she answered. "They used to do this all the time…well, I’d wager. It’ll pass in a minute." 

Just then, Giles yelped, "You monkey's scot's git!" 

William shook his head. "I'm warning you!" 

"What's he do, nibble your bum?"

This time, all eyes fell to Buffy. They had never seen Giles so…carefree…without the added influence of lots of liquor. 

"Maybe we should be afraid," she suggested meekly. 

"I think it’s cute," Kelly offered, nudging her husband. "Look how happy he is. He’s all…with the giddy. Isn’t it cute?" 

Zack looked at her as though she had sprouted another head and decided to name it George. 

"If they don’t stop talking about bunnies," Anya said, flexing her arms, "I’m going to tear out their ribcages." 

Xander smiled proudly. "My ex-fiancé, ladies and gents." 

Neither of the British men was paying attention. They were too wrapped up in their reminisce of better times and Monty Python. "He's got huge, sharp— he can leap about—look at the bones!" 

Giles was so enamored that he could hardly contain himself. "Go on, Boris. Chop his head off!" 

At that, William seemed to momentarily switch sides. "Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew coming right up!" 

They glanced to each other and chuckled, both turning red in the face. "And then…" Giles cackled, holding his stomach. "The rabbit leaps up and starts—" 

"Tearing all the pillocks to pieces," William agreed, fighting the need to breathe. "And Tim’s all: ‘I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? ‘Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't it?’ Well, it's always the same, I always…but do they ever listen to me?" He met Giles’s dancing eyes and they concluded in unison: "Run away! Run away!" 

"That seems to be a good idea as of the now," Zack said, coiling his arm around Kelly’s elbow to nudge her to the door.

At that moment, when the scene had concluded itself, the Watcher and William both looked up and seemed to remember that not only did they have an audience, but they had managed to get massively off track with a simply trip down memory lane. 

"Erm, sorry," Giles said, immediately removing his glasses to polish them in the hem of his shirt. "I suppose we got carried away." 

"Yah think?" Xander demanded, befuddled. "God, I’m getting that familiar attack of the wiggins all over again. The next thing you know, those two will be laughing about Little Buddha while pulling out old recordings of Steptoe and Son. The entire situation is creepier than anything I’ve ever seen…and I’ve lived on the Hellmouth my whole life." 

In desperation, Zack pivoted to Buffy. "God, please!" he begged. "PLEASE turn him back into Spike! I don’t think I could stand to patrol with someone who finds crumpets and tea to be a highly-riveting conversation while having…well…crumpets and tea." 

"Oi now!" William objected. "I have never sat down for crumpets and tea. I’ve got my limits. Still the Big Bad, here!" 

"No, you’re really not," Xander argued heatedly. "Look at you! You’re soul-having and pulse-having. The only person you have a chance of scaring is Millhouse of The Simpsons. And even he could beat you up!" 

"Screech," Zack felt obligated to point out. 

The room paused to give William the skeptical once-over. "No," Xander decided. "I only met Screech that one oh-why-can’t-I-forget-this-ever-happened night, and at least he knew some basic martial arts positions." 

"He made those up," Kelly said. "Either that, or he was watching too many Jackie Chan flicks." 

"It doesn’t matter," William said quietly, nodding to Buffy. "Soon everything’ll be back to normal anyway, right, Sweets? Red’s keen enough with her mojo that she’ll have me back at my norm here in a jiffy. Did she say how long it’d take?" 

That was all the prompt she needed to dissolve. The Slayer met his inquisitive expression just as her face began to crumple, and she shook her head in semblance for the world to come crashing down around her. "She…" she began hoarsely. "She’s tried to…and she…the spell she worked is irreversible." 

"’S what?" William’s eyes boggled and he immediately stepped forward to comfort her, but she bristled and moved away, unable to look at him. 

"It’s what?!" Zack demanded angrily. "She can’t turn him back?!" 

"I can’t…" Buffy was crying in earnest now. Her entire body trembled with the impact of her grief. "Will, I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I…" 

"Don’t bloody apologize to me!" he snarled, stepping forward. All former hints of mirth were cast forever from his body, and he took in her image with heart-breaking simplicity of the rendition of a same-old song. "I’m not gonna live like this, Buffy! I’m not meant to be sodding human, or soul-having, and you bloody well know it!" 

The Slayer shook her head and pivoted, unable to stop her tears. God, the lot of them had done nothing but weep for what felt like forever, and the impact of sensationalism could not be ignored. "You’re asking me to kill you!" she snapped. "I don’t do that, Spike! I don’t kill humans!" 

"He’s not Spike!" Zack interjected angrily. "And he won’t be unless you do something. God, can’t you see that’s what he wants? He wants you to turn him. Everyone wants you to turn him!" 

"I don’t," Giles muttered. At the vast array of harrowed glances he received in stern reply, he sighed and shrugged. "Well, of course I bloody don’t want him to be turned! Will’s a good friend of mine, and I—" 

"Ripper," William said softly. "You’re a good man. A good friend, and I was fortunate to have you all those years. But…if you’re asking me to choose…" He trailed off miserably, searching Buffy’s eyes in a silent plea for her to understand. 

The Watcher looked dejected and sighed. "I know," he murmured. "And I want what’s best for you, even if it means putting up with your not-so-better half." 

"Don’t you get it?!" Zack snapped. His gaze had not once abandoned the Slayer’s. "Everyone feels you should do this! If Will didn’t want to be turned, that’d be different. But GOD, Buffy, you can’t deny him what he wants! If anything, you owe it to him to sire him. Didn’t you say he had done thousands of selfless things for you? Hasn’t Spike done thousands of selfless things for you? You want your husband back—" He gestured emphatically to William, "—then bloody well take him!" 

The entire library rang with the flat smack of skin meeting skin, followed only by Kelly’s yelp of protest. Zack found himself propelled instantly to the middle of a maple table that was likely older than everyone in the room combined—including the vampire. Splinters and chunks of wood scattered throughout the room, and when the sawdust mounded to a standstill, the Slayer was glaring at him with a look that could freeze Hell. 

"You can’t possibly know what you’re asking of me," she said through gritted teeth. "That’s all this is to you, isn’t it? Playing a game of life and death just because you want…God, and to think I trusted you with everything I told you earlier. I thought you’d understand." 

"I do understand," Zack said, fighting to his feet. William helped him up, not looking at the shadow of his counterpart’s wife. He seemed to be physically attempting to restrain himself from a similar outburst—though directed at whom was anyone’s guess. "I understand that you’re sniveling and crying and two seconds from staking yourself because Spike’s gone, while ignoring everyone who tells you that if you want him back, you need to take him back. Makes a fellow question if you want him back at all." 

A palpable cold draft flittered through the library. 

"How. Dare. You." 

"This is me," Zack said with open arms. "Daring." 

"You have no idea—" 

"Well, come on, Buff," Xander said, stepping forward. "I mean, here I am, President of the Let’s Stake Spike Club, and even I can see that you’re acting a little irrationally. You love the guy—hell, we can all see it—and you want him back. Everyone here seems to want him back. Hell, even William wants him back. What are you possibly contesting? Freewill? Is it the vampire thing? Turning him into what he was? Your husband?" 

"Back off," William snapped suddenly. "As helpful as everyone is trying to be, I believe this little matter is directly between me and the missus. Or…sort’ve missus." With a calm, collective breath that was obviously designed to school another form of vocalized revolt, he turned to her and whispered, "Buffy…baby…please?" 

That was enough to break anyone, and the reaction it had on the Slayer could not go ignored. And yet, though she nearly shattered, she somehow managed to shake her head and hold her ground. "I…I can’t. Will…Spike…I can’t. It’s against everything…" 

"Please?" 

"I—" 

Everyone was surprised when his voice elevated from a whisper to a shout, his own emotion pouring through and speaking for everything that Spike—as a ghostlike third party—could not. While the Slayer’s resolve notably wavered at the first sight of tears, it was clear even before he spoke that such would not hamper her decision. "Buffy!" he gasped, nearly stumbling with the burdened weight of forced solitude. "Please! I can’t sodding live like this. Not having you, not…having anything. PLEASE turn me back to what I was!" 

There simply was no answer. She wouldn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Not with the decision mounting her shoulders. 

The cold draft returned. The telling click of his tongue was enough to attract any amount of attention, and it coursed through the library like a winter storm. "Right then," he said solemnly. "You won’t turn me? Fine. I’ll just find someone who will." 

And before anyone could react, Spike had stormed into the corridor. 

*~*~*

Not much time had passed: fifteen minutes at the most, but Buffy was panicking all the same. It was uncanny just how quickly William could make himself scarce, with or without the additive influence of a claim working in her favor. 

Up until the library confrontation, she had been sure the claim was still working. Now it was a matter of timing. 

And concession. 

There weren’t such things as moments of stunning actuality as far as the Slayer was concerned, but when William announced that he would be a vampire again regardless of her involvement of the act, several doors opened that she hadn’t anticipated. Knowledge. Understanding. The perspective that had been so long cast aside in the namesake of inbuilt prejudice. It wasn’t siring him that she was against; it was the making of more vampires. The polluting the earth with further impure blood. The same thing her Slayer senses rebuked with the mere suggestion of affiliation. 

It was the last step in acknowledging her demonhood, and she knew that. The final step in the progression of everything she was. Everything she ever would be. Willfully choosing vampirism over the humanity she had so long clung to. She knew that William was correct in his actions, but she would never forgive herself if he reached another vampire before she was able to give him what he wanted. What he needed. 

If he turned again to Drusilla and she sired him, she would have lost him forever. 

The fact that she could no longer feel him led her to believe that she was too late. 

It was a dangerous last-ploy, but Buffy knew if he were going to tell anyone where he was, it would be Zack. Even with the relationship he had with Giles, William was intelligent enough to know where the true loyalties resided. And while she and her husband’s friend weren’t exactly on the best terms as of the recent, she knew he was her best hope in locating him before all was lost forever. 

There was no way she was letting that happen. Not after everything she had fought for. Everything she had already lost. 

Ten seconds of pounding was all she needed. Kelly opened the door to their bedchamber timidly and stepped aside as a rushed Slayer paraded through, objective intent in her stride. "Where is he, Zack?" she demanded, not even bothering to acknowledge the presence of her friend. 

"Why?" came the lazy retort. Zack was hunched over paperwork—likely band material or something equally unimportant, especially considering the current status of the band. "Listen, Buf, if you don’t wanna be the one to help him when he needs it, that’s your problem. I’m not about to let you interfere with—" 

"Stop it!" she snapped. "I need to find him. I’ll do it, I promise. I’ll sire him. I just need to find him before Dru…before someone else does." 

At that, the man glanced up. Skepticism was wrought plainly across his features—the very same that melted away the instant he met her eyes. "You’re not just saying it?" 

"No! I’ll do it! I swear to…" She shook her head to wan away another untimely incursion of tears. "I get it. I really, really get it. I just—" 

"Really? ‘Cause honestly, Slayer, you’ve ‘gotten’ it before. Several times, point of fact. Seems to have the same lasting result." 

"Zack, please I didn’t…I’m a vampire." That phrase was enough to persuade him. That admission. The acknowledgement of her heritage. Even she paused at that, frowned, but reiterated. It was important. "I’m a vampire. I was the Slayer, but I’m not anymore. I…I really haven’t been for a long time. I’m a vampire, and I need him. He’s my mate. If this is what he wants, what he really wants, I need to be the one to do it. If…if someone else does…Zack, we might lose him completely." 

That was it. He needed no further convincing. "Right," he said with a nod. "Let’s go." 

*~*~*

It seemed fitting that he would find her in the dungeon. 

"My William nears the spring. Does he wish to take a drink?" 

A pause at that as he cocked his head and considered her. It was bizarre, looking at her for the first time since his soul reintroduced itself to his body. He hadn’t seen her—truly seen her—since the night she killed him. Lifetimes ago in a dirty London alley. 1880. Good lord, was he really that old? Had to be. At times, the strain of age was so evident. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen apart before this. 

Drusilla. His once-goddess. She would help him. She would turn him. 

She had before. 

A nostalgic grin tugged at William’s lips as he neared. "Hello, Dru." 

"Sweet prince. Gallant knight. Are you finished playing in the sunshine?" He took a breath as she neared. The prowess behind her eyes always did him in. He could see the souls of thousands dancing behind their influence. She reached out to stroke his cheek, smiling kittenishly. "It tires of you, my sweet. It wants to hand you over, so I can play with you all by myself." 

William nodded weakly. What he was about to do went against every innate nerve compounding his body, and yet he refused to back out. Buffy had rejected him; the love of his life had rejected him. There was nowhere else to turn. Nowhere else to go. If the Slayer refused him, there was only one other person he could think that he would want to make him what he was. 

He would take it from anyone, but Drusilla was naturally the best option. 

The trouble was, he didn’t want her to do it. While he craved vampirehood with every fiber of his being, the picture of his old flame was not the one he needed. She was not the one his blood called for. She was not the one he wanted to spend eternity with. 

Buffy in the face of her rejection. Though he was human and knew her well enough to understand her reasoning, the notion that she wouldn’t share something as intimate, as sacred, with him hurt more than he cared to acknowledge. 

It hurt more that he couldn’t convince her of the alternative. Because, looking at Drusilla, William felt the burn of his old ties to his former. He knew that by accepting her bite, he would be willing himself into her hands once more. And while he had no doubt that his resolve would be strong enough to ultimately break her hold, it would take more willpower than any endeavor in his past, and likely in his past. 

Even the confrontation with the inner demon. 

"Enough with the pleasantries," he said at last, turning to bear his throat to her. "You know what I came down here for."

There was a clucking sound, and he glanced up to see her giggling maniacally and shaking her head. "My poor Spike," she tsked, wagging her finger. "Thinks he can crawl back to mummy to get everything fixed. Fixed for her. Naughty. Shop’s closed, dearie. You stink of her. She’s rotten. Spoiled you, my prince." 

"Not for you, poodle," he immediately contested. "I promise. Turn me back to what I was, and I’ll…I come home." 

A brief, fleeting light seized the insane vampiress’s eyes, and she looked as innocent and giddy as a schoolgirl. "This is no lie?" she demanded in a hushed, anxious whisper as she stepped forward, hand coming up to play with the peroxide strands curled at his forehead. "William will return to me? Make our happy family complete again?" 

"If that’s what you want, Princess," he said convincingly, offering a solemn nod. "I can’t live like this, Dru. You know that. You know what a pathetic wanker I was as a man. You were there. You saw. You…" He swallowed hard and cupped her cheek, ignoring the stirring in the pit of stomach that he couldn’t wan off when she nuzzled him tenderly. "You understand. Always have. I was a bleeding git for thinking it otherwise. You get me. You know what I…what I need." 

Her hand came up to run lengthwise across his throat. "You want me in you, William?" 

"Yes." 

"Devouring you?" 

"God, yes." 

"You’ll let me bite you…" Her nail flickered over Buffy’s claim mark, and his entire body screamed out in protest. "Here?" 

_No!_ His mind cried, and consequentially went ignored. William had wagered this would be her game. In order for Drusilla to feel in control, she would need to drown out all reminders of the Slayer. She would need to break the claim. 

She would need to take everything that Buffy ever had away. Forever. 

He only hoped he had the strength to reclaim it when he was reborn. 

"If that’s what it takes." 

The prospect delighted her thoroughly and she flashed a smile that made him sick. She knew what she was doing. What she taking from his mate—his proper mate. What the Slayer could never reclaim unless he willed it so. It had taken years the first time around, and yes, while things were different, the bonds connecting childe and sire were not to be taken lightly. Especially if said childe was newly risen. 

Newly risen for a man who spanned the age of centuries. Interesting thought. He wondered how different it would really be. If it would be different at all. 

Drusilla tenderized the mark with her tongue and he did his best not to push her away. It only lasted a minute…then he felt the telling shift of her skin against his cheek and knew without needing to look that she had changed into game face. "Welcome home, William," she murmured into his ear. 

And neared. 

It took a minute to realize what had happened, and by the time he realized that Drusilla was resting against the far wall, the Slayer’s scream of protest had already echoed to near stillness. William indulged heavy gasps of air, trading confused glances between his former and the shadow of his wife, who was racing toward him at full speed. Before he could greet her or even fully acknowledge her presence, Buffy had projected herself fully into his embrace, sobbing onto his shoulder and coaxing his arms around her without much persuasion. 

"Oh God!" she cried into his throat. "I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. Please…don’t let her…don’t make me lose you." 

The warmed acceptance was all he needed. William felt his entire body relax into her, and he quivered with the foreknowledge of what he had nearly given up. What he could never give up. His embrace tightened around her, warm, reassuring, and proud. "Buffy," he murmured in liberated contentment. "All I wanted was you." 

"I know…I know…" 

There was a disgruntled rumble from behind. 

"The pixies were right," Drusilla complained. "And Miss Edith never lies. You’re covered with her. You reek of her. All that nasty goodness just bouncing off of you. You’re not mine anymore, William. You’re all lost. Wandering back in the woods, not knowing where you belong." 

William hardly spared her a glance, warm eyes unable to leave Buffy. She had come. She had really come for him. And now everything was all right. Everything would be all right. Because he was hers. "Dru," he replied airily over his shoulder. "Little news flash; I haven’t been yours in a long bloody time. And I won’t ever be again. As far as being lost…" He leaned inward to nuzzle the Slayer’s throat, knowing instinctively not to push it too far, but also unable to stop himself. Conscious or not, he was so accustomed to touching her whenever he felt the drive, and this forced separation was liable to make him lose all direction if she didn’t rectify it soon. "This here’s the only home I ever care to know." 

Buffy offered a watery smile and pressed her forehead against his. "You mean it?" 

"Yeah, love," he rumbled huskily at her lips. "He means it." 

"Do you, too?" 

"Never meant anything more." William turned his head once to cast a look at his forlorn former, nodding once in empathy. Despite everything, there was no true way he could hate Drusilla. Not for anything. Had she not entered his life, he might not be standing at the pinnacle of the greatest gift known to mankind. And for that, he was forever thankful. 

But that was as far as it went. 

With casual negligence, William tilted his head as he wrapped his arm around Buffy’s waist. "Goodbye, pet," he said. "Thanks for the offer, but I just got me a better one." 

"Your world is encased in lies!" she spat viciously as they began to walk away. Her hands came to her head and she fisted clumps of hair, pulling with all her might. "They’ll find out about you, Spike! You cannot hide behind your veil! You cannot stop what you are! One little taste and you’re back in the pool, but Mummy will not be as forgiving the next time." 

Her cries were lost to an abyss of blackness where they left her. Left her alone in the dungeon, ready to face the world. 

And change.


	20. Chapter 20

Goodbyes were said and shared. Giles promptly refused to watch the siring take place. Many assumed it was due to the losing of his friend yet again, but Zack had a hankering that the cause was more the inbuilt knowledge of what his Slayer had to do. His Slayer who was a vampire. The first Watcher in history to keep a Chosen One who had an immortal bloodline. Though time had convinced him to accept it, the man simply couldn’t abide the sight of what she was without firm protestation. Nothing of actuality, more instinct. 

It was understandable. 

In the end, the unanimous decision was that the final count needed to be the four people most pivotal in Spike’s life. The ceremony alone was something sacred—documented in Watcher’s Diaries as one of the most liberating experiences one could indulge. The practice of artful death. 

For whatever reason, no one questioned Zack and Kelly’s decision that Rosie should be present. Their daughter understood the values of vampiric birth and death—and despite their attempts to protect her from the more vulgar aspects of demonology, what William was about to do simply failed to fall under that heading. After all the girl had seen, watching vampire transformation seemed to classify as wholly anticlimactic. 

There was no doubt that she would understand the significance when she was older. 

They were in Buffy and Spike’s bedchamber, nearly coated in darkness. A few candles were lit for affect, though the unspoken verdict was that the need to be melodramatic would comically alleviate the seriousness about what was going to be done. 

William sighed when he acknowledged it was time. "Right then," he said to Buffy with a nod. "Give us a minute." He turned to the Morrises and smiled poignantly. "Well…here’s to the end of a bloody interesting couple of days. I guess I owe the both of you a round of thanks on my behalf." He held up a hand in clarification when Zack opened his mouth in silent protest. "And when I say my behalf, I mean me. Not my evil twin." 

"It was nothing," Kelly said, swiftly stealing whatever was on her husband’s lips. "Really. I know this is going to sound lame, but I really enjoyed meeting you." 

"You’re right, that was lame," Buffy said with a meek smirk. 

"Sod all, Kel, you make it sound like I’m some distant relative or what all." William grinned good-naturedly and placed his hand over his own heart. "Trust me. We might talk different, but me and the other…we’re the same where it counts. Not too much running on difference, there. I’m the same as ever…only I tend to care more about wankerish stuff, which is an admitted weakness of mine." 

"One I’m going to have to tease Spike about relentlessly when he gets back," Zack added with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oi! On my behalf…" William moved to whack his friend upside the head. "Guess I don’t have a right to be offended seeing as I won’t be here in the strictest sense, but I feel it, yeah bloody ponce." The two chuckled together for a minute before nodding their respect. "You’re an all right kid, Zangy. Take care of the missus and the Bit…’cause I know evil-me’d rip your arms off if you did wrong by them." 

Zack chuckled. "I would expect no less." 

William returned his grin cheekily before cautiously moving down the line to saw his proper goodbyes to the Morris girls. He frowned when he saw Kelly begin to weep, though his eyes were dancing. Too many tales foretold how easy it was to get the bird to cry, even if it was over someone to the likes of him. Someone she knew only through association—someone she wasn’t technically saying goodbye to. 

And yet, it was so cute he couldn’t think of anything to do but offer her a handkerchief. 

"Momma’s sad," Rosie observed from the ground. 

"She shouldn’t be," William replied. "Come now, Kel. You’re gonna make me sprout my own, and that’s never good." 

"I…I just…" She gestured to her stomach. "Pregnant lady hormones." 

"She’d be saying it was PMS if she wasn’t preggers," Zack jested, earning a well-deserved arm-whap. "Well, you would! Come on, Kel. You cried when we finally got TiVo—you’re practically your own waterworks company!" 

William arched a flawless brow. "TiVo?" 

"I…finally got to see a show that…" There simply was no good explanation, so she decided to whap Zack again. "I just…I feel like this should be a cry-thing. Spike’s coming back—and talk about the big yays—but…I dunno. I guess I just wish that we could keep the both of you and make everyone happy. That and you’re really cool and Gilesy and after hearing about you so much, there was other stuff…I mean, I didn’t even get around to getting to know you! This is just…" 

He was smiling warmly. "Kel," he said. "Trust me, pet. You know me. All too well." 

"’Sides," Zack pointed out, breaking the touching moment. He understood it was needed from time to time, but all the estrogen was beginning to get to him. All the more reason to get Spike back in the game. "If there were two of them around, we’d never see them or Buffy ever again." 

"Zack!" the three hissed in protest. 

"Never again?" Rosie demanded, eyes watering. 

"Oi there, Sweets," William immediately amended, kneeling so he was eye-level with the child. "Your Pap’s just being a git as usual. You oughta know I couldn’t bloody well live without my Bit time, right?" 

The child smiled at this, visibly relieved. "Right, Uncle Willyum." 

The brandishing of a sudden epithet caught him off guard, and for whatever reason, prompted the man to choke emotionally. With a schooled nod of visible restraint, he forced a smile and kissed the girl on the forehead. "Right," he said. "I love you, Rosie. Y’know that, don’cha?" 

"I’m your girl," she agreed. 

A small smile lit his face and he tugged poignantly at her blonde curls. "Always." 

The child seemed content with this for a second before her face fell again. "You’re going away, aren’t you?" 

"Not really, Precious. Just for a little while." 

"Is Uncle Spike gonna be back?" 

"Before you know it." 

"Good," she said enthusiastically. "I really miss him." 

"He misses you, too, Poodle." A trembling sigh escaped his lips. "Be a good girl, all right?" 

"All right." 

It was quickly becoming too much. William fought to his feet and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Sodding tears. 

At last he turned to Buffy, who stood waiting at the bedside. She looked clandestine—lost in shadows and silhouetted against a candlelit background. The soft, heartrending tears that silently rolled down her cheeks were enough to do anyone in. William smiled gently and neared her, reaching up to draw one away with the trace of his thumb. 

"Guess this it’s the part," he murmured, "where I’m supposed to tell you that I’m gonna miss you most of all." 

The Slayer exhaled ruggedly, tried to smile, but failed. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she whispered against his mouth. 

"I was made to do this, love. Really, it’s not a bad gig. It’ll sting a bit at first but…" William trailed off when the tears wetting his fingers began to flow with abundance and leaned closer so that his words would be only for her. "’S just fitting," he whispered, "that this time, I get to say goodbye." 

He claimed her mouth in a soft kiss, the last token of his esteem. It was over before she could reciprocate. Before it could deepen with the depth of feeling. Before she could do anything but stand there and accept it. A fleeting warmth on her lips. Feathery. Soft. Pouring emotion with such little effort that she would have been winded had she relied on the air around her. 

"This is what you want, right?" he murmured against her when he pulled away. 

It took a minute to form a sentence, let alone a thought. "What I—" 

"If you’re completely honest with yourself without trying to spare the feelings of yours truly, tell me what it is that you want." 

There was no hesitation this time. "Spike," she replied against him. "I want him." 

William smiled with a nod, turning to bare his throat to her. "Then bloody well come and get him, Slayer," he said cheekily. "Time’s a wasting." 

Buffy would not be bought that simply. She seized hold of his chin and forced his eyes to hers without much influence. "Will…" she breathed against his mouth, trembling slightly when he leaned instinctively into her touch. "I love you. I do." 

"I know. Love you, too, kitten." 

"I wish…" 

"Things could be different? No you don’t. Not really." He grinned. "And you really don’t need to say such things for my sake, pet. I figured it out a long bloody time ago. It’s time that you embraced it. Come on. I’m not getting any humaner here." 

Buffy cocked a brow. "Humaner?" 

"Writer’s rule: I can make up words whenever I bloody well please." 

"Well then…someone should tell Spike that he’s not a writer," she retorted, leaning into his throat where his pulse was calling her home. "Because he abuses that privilege way too much of the often." 

"Very funny." William allowed his eyes to drift shut, hand subconsciously going to the back of her head to coax her forward. "Come now. Time and tide wait for no vamp." 

"Now…I stop when I feel your heart begin to slow…" 

"And open up something nummy for me to suck on." He waggled his brows. 

From behind, Rosie tugged at her mother’s pants. "Do you have any jolly ranchers?" 

Zack intervened before Kelly could flush. "Buffy’s taken care of it," he reassured his daughter. 

Their trade went ignored. The blonde two were wrapped up completely in each other. 

"You’ll know what to do, Buffy," William reassured her. "It’s bloody frightening the first go ‘round, but siring people’s in your nature now, whether you want it to be or not. Trust me. You’ll know what to do." 

A nod. A breath. And a lasting pause. 

"Will…" 

"Yeah?" 

The eyes that met his were inhuman, but he found them striking. The last thing for anyone to see. He wondered if he had ever told her how beautiful she was in the guise of her true face, but knew already that he had, if not a time too many. "Goodbye." 

And then those fangs were in his throat, marking over the place where she had staked her claim so many years ago. Eons. It felt like eons. William’s knees buckled almost immediately and the two collapsed onto the bed. Buffy at his throat, drinking greedily at the human essence that poured into her mouth. A rich, warm taste that she reveled in more than anything. And her demon cried out in merry rejoice, inwardly screaming for more. 

He was weak. He felt it seeping through his veins. The loss of life. His head began to spin as the room grew insufferably warm. A distant ringing in his ears…and then he was being propelled forward. His foggy, weary eyes marked the hand oof his lover drawing a horizontal line of blood just inches above her breast line, and bringing him forward so that he might feast upon her. 

And feast he did. Blood he knew so well. Blood he relied on. Blood pouring into his mouth and trickling down his throat. The most intimate connection known to mankind. Here in his arms. In his heart. Here as he felt the man being pushed aside to accommodate the return of a noisy, rude, unkempt roommate. 

The body’s way of welcoming its host back home. 

When Buffy finally pulled away and watched him collapse dead atop the bed, her tears had all but stopped. And the room froze into a standstill at the intensity of what they had just witnessed. 

"Goodnight, sweet Prince," the Slayer murmured. "May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." 

There was nothing to do but wait. 

*~*~*

The hours until he finally awoke were some of the quietest and somber moments ever spent for Buffy, Zack and Kelly. The others were all too a bit worried, but covered their insecurity by extra research and useless chatter. 

Spike's room was treated almost as a sacred shrine where even Rosie would not speak above a whisper. No one except the four who were present on his deathbed ever entered the room. 

It was a given before it even began that Buffy would not leave his side. She never spoke a word that anyone would later recall, but simply say beside the bed holding his hand or curled up next to him. 

Kelly insisted that she and Rosie return to their room that night. She and Zack agreed that it would be easiest on the child if they simply tried to return to a bit of normalcy. Also they knew that it could take days he joined them again and impatience would not help the Slayer get through. 

Zack set up a pallet on the floor and tried to sleep, but knew that his wife was lying awake across the hall. He also suspected that Buffy was now able to handle herself enough to be left alone. He didn't think that she would do anything drastic, but he realized now that she was probably deeply troubled knowing that she had killed him. Since it was her first time, he had wanted to be there in case she needed a shoulder to lean on.

He eventually left her alone after he brought her a midnight snack. He knew that if he hadn't brought her those mugs that nourishment would never cross her mind. As she silently thanked him, he bent down to kiss the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder gently. Then he whispered his goodnight and left her alone. 

She could not express the fear that was brewing inside of her. She had seen him alive and she had seen him undead, but looking upon the man she loved knowing there was no life to his form whatsoever gave was more than wigging could describe. She watched his pale lifeless form for any signs of life but was disappointed hour upon hour. 

Panic would surge through her with thoughts that she hadn't performed the siring correctly, but then she would remind herself that innately she knew the truth. She would ponder why it was taking so long before she remembered the fact that it can take days for a body to emerge into their unlife.

She had no idea that morning came until Kelly brought her another meal. The brunette pulled a chair beside Spike but only took the Slayer's hand as she kept vigil. Kelly knew that she was no help to Spike wherever he was at the moment, but that she could help the grieving woman by her side.

Zack came and sat as well as the morning wore on to afternoon. He knew that probability showed that he would arise no sooner than that evening, but he wanted to make sure that he was there no matter the time.

And time went on.

*~*~*

"I've researched before, but this is an entirely different thing," Donna said in attempts to defending herself. She was getting thrown time and time again when she would pick up a book in a language she could not translate.

"You pick up on it after a while," Xander said comforting.

"I work at the White House. Most all of these are dead languages. I don't even need Latin there!"

"You don't know Latin?" Josh said with mock horror. "And Bartlet lets you into the Oval Office? Shame on you."

"Please," she snorted. "You lied to him. You can only say 'We came. We saw. We conquered.'"

He merely shrugged as he typed away on his laptop. He used his Internet connection to relate back to Washington D.C. while keeping track on breaking news across the globe.

"Anything new out there" Dawn said taking a break.

"Not much," Josh said with a shrug. He sipped his coffee before adding,

"Though they've been slow posting the latest bulletin on the CNN board. Normally it's right on the hour. Now, its about ten minutes late."

"Should we panic?" Anya asked.

"I would say having an Internet connection at all is remarkable," Wesley replied.

"It is," Josh said with a nod. "This laptop was the nicest thing that the US government ever bought me."

"How are they covering things?" Donna said walking over to check his mug.

"Not so well. It's looking suspicious, but it sounds like C.J. and Leo have me taking care of some personal business. Dying family member or something to the effect.

"Just as long as they don't think you got committed," Donna said in all seriousness.

"You mean that people actually think that I'm that...?" Josh said horrified.

"No," she sighed. Then she said a little lower, "Just that you've had your bouts with PTSD."

"What's that?" Cordelia said edgily. "Is that some mental condition that makes you go all crazy and kill someone? Or do you turn into something that kills someone?"

"No," Giles clarified. "Correct me if I'm wrong Josh," he said glancing to the man in question, "but it stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Josh nodded. Almost ashamed he said, "I was shot. After that I had some problems readjusting. It doesn't bother me much now." Then for extra reassurance, he looked back at Cordy. "And I've never killed someone. Not everything in this world has deadly or supernatural connotations."

"He's right," Wesley said. "But what we're facing now is. So, on that note, let's get back to work."

"AHH!" Josh said seconds later after turning back to the computer.

"What?" Everyone asked.

"You won't believe what they just posted on CNN!"

*~*~*

"Do you feel banished?" Ferris asked the small group that sat at the Great Hall table.

"They do this whenever you insult one of their precious Scoobies," Lisa said bitterly.

"It's probably because of what we said about Spike," Slone said stating one of the obvious reasons as she poked at her vegetables. "Maybe we should apologize."

"Like hell," Slater snapped. "Besides, it's not just his fault. It's all of them. Especially Kelly."

"What do you mean?" Slone asked.

"Look," he said throwing his hands emphatically in Lisa's direction. "Lisa and I were her and Zack's best friends. Given, I don't remember the incident that came between me and her."

"You slept with your best friend's wife," Ferris muttered. "Even I got that one."

"Yeah...well at least I didn't kill her and eat her for dinner. Anyways, I don't get why they would just go turn on Lisa and her kid."

"Maybe 'cause she's a whore who’s slept with just about every male creature in Sunnydale," Clarice said sauntering in. "Not good for the married life, bitch."

"Don't you have some innocent people to terrorize," Ferris snapped. His fear was obvious, but he was trying hard to fight it.

"I thought that I had found some innocent people to terrorize."

"Oh," Cameron squeaked.

"Cute get-up," She said mocking his flamboyant attire. "By the way, Elton John wants his style back."

"I don't care for her at all," Prince commented to his owner.

"Me neither."

"What the hell?" Clarice responded. "Oh that's right. You talk to your animals, but what else do you do with them?"

"What do you want?" Lisa snapped. Unlike the rest of the group, she resided in Sunnydale and was used to the exceedingly vulgar and annoying vamp. "Angelus too busy with his old girlfriend to put you on the schedule."

"Shut up," She growled. "Or I'll eat your kid." She gestured to Stephen who was actually asleep at the table.

"Yeah right," Lisa provoked. "Like you would even dare wake him up. And if you do, you can eat him."

Clarice made no move toward the child. Instead she took a seat. "Looks like we're stuck at the misfits table then, huh? Pass the blood."

*~*~*

That evening seemed to take forever to arrive. Zack, Kelly, Rosie and Buffy all ate dinner in the room and for the most part ate it in silence. Rosie occasionally would have to burst with energy telling a story, a whine or simply running around the room like a four year old would, but she understood that good behavior was a must.

"Is he awake yet?" Rosie said crawling up in her father's lap. 

"No Pigtails," He kissed her temple and gently rocked her body as he looked down upon the ashen face of his friend. "Remember that it can take days."

"But he's strong. It won't take him that long."

"Let's hope."

"He's a fighter, Daddy. He's fighting for us."

"I know he is."

"Come on, Rosie," Kelly said waling over and holding out her hand. "Let's go get a bath and we can come back a little later."

But as the two made their way toward the door, Zack called, "Wait, Kel."

"What?"

"I think...I think he might be."

That was all it took for them to come to his side beside the bed. Buffy was watching intently as she watched him slowly start to move.

A groan was his first response before attempting to roll over. Then with his eyes still closed, he mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" Zack gently prodded. "Spike, can you hear me?"

He muttered again. Then he did it slightly louder where his wife finally understood. "Buffy."

"I'm here," she said squeezing his hand. "Don't worry, Spike. I'm here."

Spike smiled lazily as his eyes finally opened. His and his wife's eyes connected as several silent minutes went by. They expressed their love, devotion and thankfulness to one another for everything in their lives.

Finally, his gaze traveled to the other three in the room. He eyes them briefly with a heartwarming smile before muttering something else.

"Huh?" Kelly asked. "What is it Spike, dear?"

"W-Weetabix," he muttered.

Zack grinned as he fought between the urges of slapping the vampire before him or simply giving him the hug of a lifetime. "Sorry. None's here."

The two eyes connected. "Worth a shot," he said as he slowly sat up.

"Uncle Spike?" Rosie said crawling onto the bed.

"Hey Nibblet," He said opening his arms to her. "Missed me, eh?"

"Like you missed me," she said confidently as she hugged him.

"Thank God," Kelly sighed. She then looked to Buffy. "Not that I didn't think you could do it but...I wasn't sure if you did it."

"That's OK," Buffy reassured as she talked to the other occupants in the room for the first time.

"It's a breeze, love. Right?"

"I was scared to death," Buffy openly admitted.

"But it all works out in the end," he whispered softly to her.

"Geez," Kelly sniffled. "You have to more than just peckish. I-I'll go get you something to eat."

"Oh, Kel," Zack said getting up to hug his tearful wife. "It's all right; happy ending. See," he gestured to the bed.

"I know," she whispered in his chest. "You know me." He held her as she shed a few tears before silently pulling away and walking out.

"Did she just run off?" Spike asked as Zack sat back down. "'Cause I didn't get to say my 'ello."

"She went to get you blood," Zack explained. "That, and she knew that everyone was probably silently mocking her waterworks." He looked at Spike pointedly before adding, "It's good to have you back though."

"Missed me, eh?"

"No," He said quickly. "Just got tired of that William bloke is all."

"Can't lie to me. I remember what you said," he teased. Then his face got serious. His sudden emotion almost choked him as he remembered the words Zack spoke time and time again in his favor. For a split second, he wondered if would even have been back had it not been for his best friend's fight. "Thank you," he nearly gasped.

Zack merely nodded as he realized that Spike knew what he did. "Besides, I'm a soulless kind of guy, myself. None of that nancy-boy stuff."

Kelly came back in with a hot mug of blood. "Drink," she said handing him the brim-full glass.

"With pleasure," he said as he gulped it down. He didn't realize that he had drunk a second until he saw the mug in his hands.

"Need more?" Kelly asked.

"I'm fine," he said as he wiped his mouth. He laid back and relaxed for a few moments before looking around the room at his family once more. "You all look simply awful."

"That's what happens when we hold a vigil for a sodding vamp," Zack grumbled. "It's call sleep deprivation."

"Don't mind Zack," Kelly said thwapping her husband. "We humans slept some; it's your wife that might need a little nap."

"Does she?" Spike said playfully turning his gaze toward his wife. "You heard her. You need to get in bed."

"OK, Rose," Zack said standing up and scooping up his uncooperative daughter. "Time to say nighty night. Uncle Spike and Aunt Buffy are going to bed."

Not even one minute later, only two vampires were all that remained in the room.

*~*~*

"Hey!" Xander said as he saw Zack and Kelly walk in to the library.

"Hey," Kelly said as she rubbed her eyes. It was only 8:30, but both Zack and Kelly looked like they could keel over at any moment.

"Is everything all right?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Zack muttered as he sank into a chair. "He's awake. We had a time putting Rosie to bed, but she's off wherever Pigtails goes when she sleeps."

"Maybe she's having one of her visions," Anya remarked. "Maybe she's dreaming about the next evil that's about to devour us."

"Speaking of which," Josh said to the couple. "Had you heard about Arnold Schwarzenegger making governor?"

"Sorry," Kelly admitted.

"Guess as a Democrat at the White House, I’m last to hear the devastating news. How the fuck can some… never mind. Boggles the mind is all."

"What?" Giles said. "Rosie is seeing?" He had apparently missed the development due to the circumstances of the past few days.

"Apparently my daughter is a Seer," Zack announced to the room.

"She was having visions about what was going to happen with Spike," Kelly added to her husband's explanation. "And he was not in a Batman movie."

"He was too, Kelly," Zack scolded. "I wouldn’t lie, Sweetie."

"Remarkable," Giles commented ignoring the gubernatorial dispute. "I know the gift can come early, but at four, having full visions is simply...remarkable."

"What can I say," Xander said cockily, "Being born on the Hellmouth can bring out the best in people."

"Cute," Wesley remarked dryly. He then turned his attention to Zack and Kelly. "What did she predict?"

"Apparently everything," Kelly said. "She knew that Spike was going to turn. She told me that she went to him afterwards and they both...talked." She didn't want to tell the world that he had cried like a baby, so she decided that she would ask Giles and Wesley if they would speak with her privately for the rest of the story.

"Anything else?" It was Dawn now.

"Well, I guess the chip had to do with it, since how could he hurt us with one," Zack pointed out. "But the humanitus issue wasn't revealed that I know of."

"Guess she slipped into a Candy Land dream," Xander commented.

"No. Disney Land," Kelly stated. "That's where she wants to go for her birthday. But not with just me and Zack of course; she wants Buffy, Spike, Dawn, and Xander too."

"She does?" Dawn asked proudly. "Well are you going to pay for it Zack? You are her dad and you should abide her wishes. Plus you keep on stiffing me on babysitting fees. "

"Zack!" Kelly said. "I told you to pay her weekly. Sorry Dawnie. We’ll settle up when we get home."

"Yeah," Xander added. "Dad, pay for me too."

"Huh?" Zack said bewildered. "I'm not paying for anyone!" Then he added. "Except my wife and children. And maybe Giles if he'll go."

"Oh," Giles said almost shyly as he removed his glasses. He beamed, "She wants me to go too?"

"Of course," Kelly said with a smile. "She practically thinks you're her grandfather."

"Is it that I'm old?"

"No," Kelly amended. "She just knows you’re not Uncle Giles and she sees you more than she's ever seen mine and Zack's parents."

"Aww," Lorne said. "She’s the sweetest little sugar-dumpling I've ever met."

"She wanted to call you Papa," Zack admitted as he walked over for a cup of coffee. "My dad is Grandpa and Kelly's is Gramps."

"Just ‘cause Derek got to pick before my dad did," Kelly grumbled resentfully.

"Hey," Zack snapped. Everyone immediately knew that it was playful though. "We all said that Frank could be Grandfather."

"Like Rosie can say that!"

"I'm Papa?" Giles beamed.

"Then there was Harry," Kelly added. "He needed a name too." She turned to Giles. "He's my grandfather in Hawaii. I always called him Grandpa Harry or Grandpa Bannister, but she already has a Grandpa Morris now."

"And I'm just Xander?" he asked.

"She calls you uncle sometimes," Zack pointed out.

"What about me?" Anya asked. "Does she want me at Disney Land?"

"You always ignore her when you see her," Kelly said with a cold glare. "Why  
would she want the mean magic shop owner to go on her fantasy vacation?"

"Well...she's always with that Spawn."

"Otherwise known as my son," Xander growled.

"As far as you know," Anya said before quickly continuing on. "Besides, she's always running around screaming for help or laughing. I can't help it if she's loud."

"She's four!" Donna pointed out. "And the most well behaved child that I've ever seen. Well…except for the oatmeal incident, but even that was commendable."

"I don't know how she got that way," Zack openly admitted as he picked up a book and handed it to Kelly before grabbing one for himself. "I mean look at her biggest influences. Buffy—well, she can get kinda mouthy. And fine. Stating the obvious—Spike and me. Hell, we've taught her things that half of this room shouldn't know."

"Like about second-hand smoke?" Xander grumbled.

"Sod off, Harris," he snapped before his eyes grew wide. "Bl-Dammit. I need to stop talking like him. Sorry Xan."

"It's OK. Happens more than you realize."

"Why are we talking about this?" Cordy asked.

"Because I don't think Kelly and Giles can teach her to be that well behaved alone," Zack said.

"You think she learns from me?" Giles asked puffing up with pride.

"How else does she know French and Greek? Not from her parents and Sesame Street didn't start the segment, yet."

"It’s late to get into a discussion, but what Zack is trying to say is that we’re planning on moving off the Hellmouth."

"You’re what?!?" Dawn and Xander asked in shock.

"Well," Kelly said beginning to fidget. "Despite all of you, which we love very much, we want Rosie to grow up with a good solid education."

"The Hellmouth isn’t good for proper education," Giles agreed with a nod. "With her intelligence, private schooling would be my recommendation."

"But, there’s a lot to talk about," Zack felt obligated to point out. "I doubt that we’ll think about it much more until we get back home, but I guess you should know."

"Wow," Xander sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "This craziness just doesn’t seem to end. And to think, I thought you guys performing a gig at Hogwarts was bad enough."

"I know what you mean," Donna said. "This is almost as crazy as that night. Put someone in a Little Mermaid suit and we’ll be set."

"Or maybe some fishnets," Zack said with a cheeky grin as he looked to Giles.

The Watcher caught the looked and responded by placing his book down and standing up. "I say that we all head to bed and pick things up in the morn."

And for the first night since the night of arrival, sleep was shared by most in the castle’s wings.

*~*~*

For silence to reside anywhere near the likeness of Buffy and Spike was an oddity all in itself, but for practically a half hour, they remained quietly curled in a comfortable embrace, not saying a word. The Slayer knew that he was waiting for her to find sleep, and while her body was wrought with fatigue from the mindless worrying that had spanned the past two days, she couldn’t find it within herself too will her mind away. So she remained restless, arms tightly abound his middle and face nuzzling his shoulder. 

Spike was mildly irritated that she refused to sleep, though without so many words. And yet he couldn’t muster the strength to scold her. He could do nothing but tighten his hold, resting his cheek lightly atop her crown. His thumb traced mindless lines up and down the expanse of her bare arms in an act of neutral comfort, and while it was his ambition to will her to sleep, the select breaths she emanated onto his neck informed him plainly that her mind was too active to descend into slumber.

However, when he felt the telling dampen of his shirt, accompanied only seconds later with a slight gasp, he knew he could not remain docile any longer. 

"Buffy?"

The Slayer glanced up sharply at the utterance of her name as though she had never heard it before. She then realized the source of his concern and quickly moved to wipe her tears away. "Sorry," she muttered hurriedly. "It’s nothing. I—"

A fierce hold on her chin strictly directed her eyes to his. "Now there," he berated kindly, caressing her cheek. "Tell me truly, what are the odds that I’ll let you get away with that?"

She smiled faintly at that in concession as she leaned into his touch. "Truly?" she repeated. "The words ‘not a chance in hell’ come to mind…"

"There’s a reason for that, sweetheart."

"I just…" She trembled and lowered her head again when his intense stare became too much. "I was so worried that I would never…that this was gone forever. That you were gone forever."

His lips tugged into an ironic smile. "And yet it took seeing Dru baring her all to get you to come around."

A palpable shudder raced through her at the very thought. "I’m so sorry," she murmured. "I don’t know why I…I don’t understand myself half the time. I…I guess knowing that just sort’ve made something in me snap. God, if it hadn’t…I would’ve…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I was feeling pretty rotten about the entire situation, myself. Didn’t particularly fancy Dru getting her fangs in my throat. It’s reserved only for you." Spike’s lips found her forehead and swept a tender kiss across her brow. "As for the other…sweets, we’ve discussed this. Time and time again. Doesn’t rightly matter what you say. You don’t see yourself as a vampire. S’okay. With everything the lot of us do to make you forget—"

"No, Spike. It’s not okay. It’s a problem. It’s my problem. The fact that we’ve let it be ‘okay’ for the past few years is what caused the problem to explode in the first place."

"Kitten, you were born to slaughter your own kind." Mindlessly, his wandering fingers began caressing the possessive bite mark at her throat. "There’s inner mojo there that I can’t touch. That no one can touch."

"I was going to…"

"Doesn’t matter what you were gonna do, love."

Buffy sat up abruptly, partially untangling herself from his embrace. "Yes, it does," she said resolutely. "I didn’t want…I didn’t want you to be a vampire. I mean, I did, because…but I thought that you would…be better if you were human. Because that’s what I was taught. Humans good, demons bad. Despite…despite everything I haven’t been able to overcome…"

"Buffy, love…it’s all right. It’s who you are, and I would be a complete pillock to—"

"No." The Slayer placed her hands firmly on his chest, crawling over him until their eyes were level. "This is who I am, Spike. I’m not the Chosen One anymore. Not really. I just choose to be because…because that’s all I’ve ever been that’s ever been anything. Other than here with you. Your wife…your mate. What the fuck am I? Just another vampire, albeit with super-strength…God, I’ve hated it. I’ve always hated it. I’ve hated being the Chosen One more than anything. Out of every goddamn girl on the planet, why was I tapped? There’s plenty others who’d be much better and—"

"No, love…there’s not." Spike was smiling at her poignantly. His hands had never fully stopped caressing her cheek, but moved anyway to again direct her gaze at his. "And no, I’m not just saying that. Look at me. ‘ve been around a little longer than you. I know Slayers pretty damn well, if I don’t say so myself. Those two that I killed…" He paused a second in wait for the obligatory shudder she always took in their behalf, and was surprisingly pleased when she silently probed him onward without an ounce of shame. "The Chosen birds that I killed…they were the only ones I ever did in, but they weren’t the only ones I met. I’ve met loads. Tried to do in more than my share. Pursued one in the fifties all the way to Prague. M’luck’d be some vamp or nasty’d get their first. Slayers are a bloody tough bounty to tag. I’m a lucky bloke to have the reputation I do, and no, I’m not ashamed. I’m sorry it hurts you to know what I’ve done, but—"

"Spike…"

"Don’t make up a bunch of rot ‘bout it not twisting your knickers, either. I know perfectly well that it does. What I am…what ‘ve done…sometimes it catches up to me. I’m a mean, nasty son of a bitch, and if you ever forget it, it’ll be the end of both of us." Spike shuddered against her. "You have to remember, love. You gotta know who’s here with you all the time. Who’s sleeping beside you. Who—"

"You’re a good man, Spike," she breathed against him softly. "And I…yeah, the knowledge of everything you’ve done…it does catch up with me every now and then. And I know you don’t…you say that don’t regret it. But I think you do. Not for the sake of others, of course…but for mine. And yeah—that’s hating it for the wrong reason—but at least it’s a reason. The point is you changed. You changed…I finally saw it. You’re the one vampire in history that could. Which is why I trust you. Love you. You have such…kindness in you—" She was cut off by an irritated rumble, and chuckled soundly in reassurance. "—and it blows me away. You try so hard…so hard that you don’t even know that you’re succeeding. The things in your past…the killing…the…that’s apart of what you are. A vampire—something you can’t help. It has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. The fact that you see it and realize—"

"Buffy…that bloke that sought out the Slayers was me. Yours truly. It had nothing to do with being a vamp…other than the bloodlust bit." Spike sighed wearily. He needed to make her understand. "’ve always had a thing for Slayers. Reckon I always will. It was just my rotten luck to go and lose my heart to one." He smiled for her sake and kissed her softly. 

But there was more to say.

"Yeah, I have changed. And I’ll stay changed…no matter what happens from here on out. Even if you decided to leave me—"

"Never," she said resolutely.

He delivered her a stern look. "We both know not to live on absolutes, love. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"Spike, you see this?" Buffy seized his hand and pressed it resolutely against the bite mark at her neck, ignoring the instinctual ripple of pleasure that immediately coursed through her at contact. "This means forever to me. Forever. And yeah, I have no idea how long that is. I figure I won’t for a while. But I know that it means crap to me unless you’re there. You. The demon. The thing you’re trying so hard to get me to see. I’ve seen it. Remember? That’s why I was…that’s why we had problems to begin with. I get what you are, Spike. And I love you for it."

Their gazes remain locked for long minutes before he sniffed and realized he was on the verge of tears like a wanker. But there was no sense in ducking his head to hide his emotion from her. She felt every turn, reveled in every unnecessary intake of air. Always had. "Forever," he breathed after a minute. "Won’t ever let you go." 

Their lips met unhurriedly. Tasting, nibbling, reclaiming everything that had been so fervently tangible only two days before. It felt like lifetimes had passed since they touched. When they pulled away, it was an air of penance. The resolution that there was no more need to worry with the first-last-only part of life. That they had reached the pinnacle of everything that was, and everything that would be. 

"There is no better Slayer," he decided a minute later. "Never has been, never will be. That’s what I was trying…I’ve seen a lot of ‘em, Buffy. None of ‘em can even hold a candle to you. To your resilience and strength. You’ve been through so much. Enough to break any man several times over." There was nothing she could possibly begin to say to thank him for that, to reply to that, thus she opted to kiss his chest through his shirt as they made themselves comfortable once more. "And the fact that that’s what you were built for…it’s fine. I was a prat for pushing the issue at first, anyway. It just…the thought that you wouldn’t…it hurt."

"You were right," Buffy whispered against him, once again nestled in the crook of his shoulder. "And yeah…I was the Slayer. A part of me always will be. But the bigger part is a vampire. And the sooner I get that through my thick skull, the better. I’m not there, Spike. But I want to be. I want to be where you are." She propped her chin atop his chest to meet his eyes. "Help me?"

If he had had any breath, it would have frozen in his throat. "Do…" he choked after a minute. "Do you have any idea what you’re asking?"

"Yes…and that’s why I need your help. It’s not going to be easy, Spike. And there’s…I’m a vampire with a soul. And—"

"’d never!" he protested. "God, Buffy. The thought of getting a nummy people treat for myself nearly kills me, and that’s bad enough. Not ‘cause of me, ‘course…but I know it’d hurt people. You. Zangy and Kel. Rosie. God, even Ripper. Couldn’t bear that. But there’s more to vampirehood than the killing. And embracing that—"

"—would make me understand what I am…and why there’s no shame in it. Especially since we’re unique." She made sure he was looking at her. He had to see that she was serious. "Help me understand what I am. Help me be what I am…the full enchilada."

"Except the killing."

"Naturally."

"Buffy…" Spike was truly at a loss for words. There were so many things to say. So many things to do in return to her offer. Her bloody gift. It meant the full abandonment of all prior teachings. Not in every sense, of course. The incorporation of what she had been into what she now was. "You know ‘d do anything for you."

"Yeah…" she agreed. "I just…I want that, too. So that if something like what happened happens again…I’ll know what to do. What it means…so that you don’t doubt my love again."

"I didn’t—"

Her eyes narrowed, and he sighed.

"Right. Thought you might want the William wanker. But I know now—"

"I want you to not have to wonder at all, Spike. I want you to know, just like I know. I want it all." Buffy pursed her lips and leaned inward, licking the fresh wound at his throat in reciprocation. "Please?"

There was no denying her. "Yes."

"Really?"

Spike whimpered inarticulately as her attentions honed. "God, yes." With firm authority, he jerked her head upward so that he might devour her mouth again, hands skating over her body with wonderful liberation. He couldn’t possibly touch her enough. However, when her own venues became too adventurous, he grasped her wrists and pulled away, licking his lips to savor her taste.

"Lesson the first…" he said softly. "Even vamps need their rest after not sleeping a full bloody night."

"You don’t want to…?"

Spike couldn’t help it; he rolled his eyes at her and thrust his hips tellingly against hers, biting back a chuckle as her gaze widened. Served her right for asking. "Does that bloody well feel like I don’t want to?" he demanded. "But I want more for you to be all rested, love. Your health’s more important to me than anything. And yeah—vamps can get just as nasty sick as humans if they don’t get sleep. Takes a bit longer, ‘course, but your comfort’s enough reason to get your rest. You’re right knackered." He brushed a kiss over her temple. "Get some rest, kitten. Please? We have all the time in the world for the other."

Buffy smiled softly and rested against him, at last allowing her eyes to drift shut as the waves of fatigue she had been battling for nearly forty-eight hours to wash over her. "You really are a perfect gentleman under all that bad-ass macho posing, aren’t you?" she teased lightly.

He grumbled in reply. "Just don’t let word out, ‘kay?"

"Sure…Zack’d…like to…know…"

"Villainous minx."

A few seconds of silence.

"Mmmm…Spike?"

"Love?"

"You’re not going to be a gentleman when I wake up, are you?"

A sly grin crossed his lips, even if she was too far lost in her oncoming sleep to notice. "Two full days without shagging you? Touching you? What do you think?"

"Gotta…get…rested up."

He chuckled and she murmured contentedly, finally drifting away into dreamland. Spike looked at her for a few fond seconds, brushing her hair out of her face before kissing her forehead once more, allowing his own fatigue to wash over him. Who knew becoming a vampire was such a strenuous activity? "Good thinking," he commended her, knowing full well that she was asleep. "’Cause when we wake up…we’re going to need our strength."

Happy musings. Surely enough to provide a night of delicious dreams.

Yes. Life was good.

For once.

*~*~*

"Okay," Zack said as he sat down. "Before I get comfortable, is there anything that anyone needs? Any funky pregnant-woman concoction, like the peanut butter I brought you yesterday?"

"It wasn’t peanut butter, it was—"

"Honey, I love you, but it was peanut butter. When there is no bread and there is no jelly, you can’t call it a sandwich." He shook his head and turned his eyes to his best friend. "And you? Any newly-risen vamp food-fetishes I can help with before I actually get to have a nice breakfast for myself?"

Spike chortled appreciatively, reaching for his cigarettes. "Are you offering, Zangy? There’s a bloody first. And no, rightly so. I’m happy with my mug full of red goodness, thank you very much."

"Is that why you practically accosted Slater this morning to see if he had hijacked your Weetabix?" Buffy asked teasingly, nuzzling his throat.

"No, love. That was strictly in the namesake of fun," he retorted with a grin.

From where he was sitting, Slater made a face. "Someday," he said lowly, "that vampire is going to wake up on fire."

"Yeah," Zack agreed. "Right after we cook you for dinner."

"What was that we were saying ‘bout ribs the other day, Zangy?" Spike asked speculatively, eyes dancing with unseen merriment.

"Gaaahhhh…" Xander complained, holding a hand across his stomach. "Please. I’m not sure which I preferred; William and Giles and their haughty laughter about random British idiosyncrasies, or listening to the Blonde Duo plan the cannibalistic discharge of the recent not-dead guy."

"Would you please stop calling me that?!" Slater snarled. "I realize that, yes! I was dead for several years, but I think everyone has gotten the memo that I’m sort’ve not anymore."

"Dunno, mate," Spike said, eyes narrowing. "We could always fix that."

"Have I mentioned what a loser you were as a human?"

"Really? Y’don’t say. It’s probably a good thing I’m not human anymore, then."

"I mean—come on! You had to have Zack save your ass."

Buffy’s gaze darkened as she considered the currently massive thorn in her side. "You’re lucky it wasn’t me," she informed him. "If I had caught you pounding on William, you would’ve lost something."

"Oi now!" Spike protested good-naturedly. "There was no ‘pounding’. I’m not that kind of a bloke."

Slater’s eyes widened. "Are you suggesting that I am?" he demanded.

"Well, you do seem wankerishly possessive when it comes to Zangy’s attention," Spike observed, ignoring the smirk his friend was shooting in his direction. "And the mullet doesn’t exactly scream in the namesake of masculinity. ‘Course it’s either that or ‘trailer park trash’. Guess it really could go in either direction."

"Regardless!" Buffy interceded loudly, glaring at Slater coldly. "I might be on my own honor-code to keep humans out of the limelight of hurt, but you should know that you’re currently on my shitlist, and that is not a good."

"No," Spike agreed. "’S really not. Take it from a bloke who’s been there a time or a thousand."

Slater shook his head in disgust and tossed Buffy a look of sheer repugnance. "You actually sleep with this guy?"

It was an unprecedented reaction. Both vampires simultaneously roared to life and rose to their feet, snarling at the buffoon. Buffy for the threat imposed on her childe, Spike for the insinuation made about his lady. They caught themselves at the same instant and tossed each other virtually identical looks. Then, wordlessly, they sat back down and returned to their breakfast.

"That another perk to being a sire?" Buffy asked under her nonexistent breath.

"Everything’s a perk to being a sire," Spike retorted. "’Specially when I challenge your mastership."

Her eyes widened speculatively. "When’s that gonna happen?"

His own twinkled in turn. "T’night, if you’re up to it."

"What does that mean…challenge my mastership?"

"It means I’m gonna be a naughty, presumptuous childe, and try to break the tie that connects us…" He grinned when her gaze widened in further protest, only to calm once more when he leaned inward and stole a kiss from her lips. "And retie it to make us right equals as far as the world of vampirism goes. It’s gonna be a world of fun, Slayer. Hope you can keep up."

Zack snickered, digging into his pancakes. "Are you two going to be even more cutesy than usual now that you’re all sire/childe-like?"

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Now, whatever gave you that idea?" With the very same note, she turned to her husband, plastic grin kept in place. "Darling, would you be ever so kind as to pass me the syrup?"

Spike caught on instantly and returned her candid humor with a bit of his own, moving to comply with positively much too chivalrousness to accommodate his character. "Why, sweetheart," he replied in an overly faux and poorly Americanized tone. "I’d be positively delighted."

They grinned giddily at each other as he handed her the requested syrup, scooting over to boldly invade her personal space and take the canister away from her once more. "Here, shnuckums," he said cheekily. "Allow me."

"Aww, you are such a dear!" Buffy replied, trying very hard not to laugh. "Who’s my cream puff?"

He batted his eyes at her. "I am."

Their gazes finally dared to meet, and they burst out into hysterics along with half the table. Kelly was chuckling so much that she had to hold her stomach, and Rosie, though she wasn’t entirely old enough to understand what was so funny, was giggling whole-heartedly with the rest of them.

"Never mind," Xander muttered, though there was a smile in his eyes. "I’ve decided which version of the annoying Cockney I prefer. Umm, ma’am, can we possibly get a refund?"

"Sod off, Harris," Spike jested good-naturedly.

"My, my, aren’t you in a mood to beat all others?" Lisa snapped.

"Try getting sired, love," he suggested, unhampered by her hostility. "’S a mightily powerful rush."

"Yeah, I can imagine that," Slater drawled sarcastically. "With the being killed and everything."

Spike shrugged and downed a mug-full of blood. "You’d be surprised, mate."

"Makes you feel alive," Buffy agreed, daring to meet her husband’s eyes. The entire table stilled and stared at her, not bothering to mask the surprise that automatically coincided with her acquiescence that she was a vampire. It had happened with more regularity over the past few days, but such a blatant, direct statement was not something of the expected when she was implicated. If anything, circumstances around Buffy were deliberately of the opposite; trying to make her forget her siring ever took precedence over anything. "Like you can run a marathon and not get tired. Like you can leap tall buildings in a single bound. It’s…amazing."

Zack’s eyes widened and he waited until his friend shook himself out of his stupor to look back. When Spike met his gaze and flashed a winning grin, he knew all was well.

And perhaps better than well.

Which meant bad, because just when everything looked to be fitting on the side of good, something always went horribly wrong.

And cue the horribly wrong.

The loud clamoring could be heard all through the Great Hall, but no one had time to react before Dawn burst through the main doors, panting sharply as she fought to regain her breath. 

Immediately, Buffy was at her feet, eyes blazing with concern. The lighthearted tenor surrounding the first calamity-free breakfast since arriving at Hogwarts immediately crashed with no hope of being put back together. There was no way her sister could erupt into the room like that and have news that was of the good. "Dawnie…" she all but muttered. "What’s wrong?"

Dawn held up a finger in silent reminder that unlike her sister, she did require a minute or two to catch her breath. "You know all that research we’ve been doing about Slater’s sporadic reappearance to coincide with the wiggyness that is Darla and Dru and…here?" A series of plain nods answered her beck and call. "Well, I think I just found a big piece." 

With that, Dumbledore stepped in behind her. 

The first, then the second. 

Wait…two of them?

Buffy’s eyes widened risibly as everyone else froze in astonishment. "I see your ‘big’ and raise you a ‘huh’?!" she replied. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Believe that’s the question of the hour, Slayer," Spike murmured, equally floored. "Well, leas’ it is now."

"Please." That came from the other side. Darla, Angelus, Drusilla, and Dr. Lecter were all slowly filing inward. The elder blonde vampire strode upward, ignoring the indignant look that Clarice flashed in her direction. "I must request that everyone remain seated. Some complications of a regretful nature have arisen, and it is time that our modus operandi became clear…lest someone decides to do something…hero-worthy." 

"That means you, ducks," Spike whispered to his wife, nudging her to sit down. 

"Yah think?" she retorted. 

"Firstly, I believe we are owed an explanation," Giles said boldly, though he remained in his seat, gesturing to the mirrored headmasters that were located at the front of the room. 

"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Although I think I know this one. Either one’s a bot…or they’re both Dumbledore."

"Wrong on both accounts, Harris," Spike snickered. "Those are two different wankers. Their scents don’t match." 

"Right…then I guess the real question is…" Xander cleared his throat, confusion wrought across his face. "Will the real Albus Dumbledore please stand up?" 

"That would be me," One of the two wizards said stepping forward. "And I’ll doubt that the other will contest." 

When the other did not, Giles responded. "I don’t understand. All this time there has been two of you?" 

"Yes. This…duplicate has been interacting with you while I have been taking care of other business." 

"He’s the one who took the chip out," Spike said pointing at the duplicate.

"He would have to be," Dumbledore openly admitted. "Because although I trust you Mr. Spike, removing your chip is certainly not a distraction needed now."

"I’m still not getting this," Josh stammered. "I get what’s seemed to have happened, but why?"

"I feel like one of them should starting talking to Mr. Anderson," Lisa groaned.

"This duplicate was installed for the sole purpose of distraction. The whole reason you were detained here was to serve the purpose of the enemy. Unfortunately, I played an integral part in helping the enemy with their actions by congregating you all in one location."

"Whoa," Spike said slowly.

"No," Xander snapped. "No Matrix."

Rosie wagged her finger at her uncle. "We aren’t in da Matrix, Uncle Spike. Not funny."

"But if we start thinking about the Chosen One then we can tie together the Shanshu prophecy and how Neo could also work in way as Spike," Kelly began to ramble before Zack laid a hand upon her lap. "Yeah. Shutting up now."

Buffy got up and walked over to the faux Headmaster. "So, what’s your purpose?"

"To keep you here while he fulfills his plans."

"But what if we just kill you. Don’t think that you can keep us all incapacitated if you’re decapitated."

"It does not matter. His plans will still be fulfilled."

"I don’t know about you," Zack retorted slowly rising from his chair. "But I’ve had about enough of these half-ass answers."

"Agreed," Buffy said as she grabbed man’s throat. "Did you cast the binding spell?"

"Of course," he replied with a smirk.

"Then lift it," Spike growled walking up to his wife’s side.

"I do not hold the power to reverse the spell."

"Who does?" Giles asked coming closer to inspect the man.

"Voldemort," Dumbledore hissed. "This is all making perfect sense now. This was all Voldemort’s plan."

"Wrong old man," the look alike cackled. "He does not hold the key to reversal. They who do, will never break the bond until all is too late."

"Can we kill him already?" Ferris whined. "He’s scary."

"I do not believe that his death would help your situation," Lecter drawled as he stepped forward.

"The real question is how bad it would hurt it," Anya muttered.

"Touché," The Good Doctor said with a chuckle. "But at this rate, caution should be weighed heavily."

"Why should we trust a word coming out of your mouth?" Buffy snapped. "You have nothing to gain by helping us."

"Would I?" He jested. "I would not assume so soon. I don’t believe that would be in your best interest right now."

"Well someone can open the gate," A woman said waltzing in.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore stammered.

Madame Hooch followed her in accompanied by Severus Snape. "Yes," the gentleman sneered. "The key is here. We have been trying incessantly for days to access this field and we seemed to have gotten a short break this morning. Close to dawn. Whoever may have thought that getting the best of us, but they were wrong."

"Who are you kidding?" Darla smirked. "Now you’re trapped here too."

"But we have a plan," Madame Hooch said defiantly.

"Oh," Giles said. "You do?" He walked over to stand beside her.

"Yes," she said before turning to Dumbledore. "Albus."

"Me?"

"Well, you said that you had a plan when we last spoke."

"We have not spoken since you left."

"That was me," the imposter admitted causing the three newest arrivals to gasp in shock with the sudden realization.

"But, Remus said that you and Willow were calling for help," Severus said perplexed.

"I was," Willow said stepping into the Great Hall.

"So Willow is bad again?" Kelly asked.

"What the fuck?" Was all Zack could muster.

"I’m agreeing with Zangy," Spike said as he looked about the room for answers.

"I’m not evil," Willow explained calmly. "I realized that things were far out of control. When I realized that two Dumbledores came up when I did locator spells, I knew we were in need of reinforcements."

"But Willow," Professor McGonagall reasoned. "We need to be out there instead of trapped in here."

"So Willow’s not evil?" Lisa asked.

"But she did turn Spike human," Slone pointed out.

"Your magic," Dumbledore realized. "Your magic went haywire and that scared you into contacting the Order."

"Of course," Willow snapped. "Everything has been so…intense here. Ever since we all arrived. Like a spell has always been on us."

"TIME OUT!" Zack yelled making his hands into a ‘t’.

"Huh?" Several asked in unison.

Zack sighed and shrugged. "It was worth a try. I think we need it."

"Zangy, you never cease to amaze me with all your wankerisms."

"Yes," Wesley admitted as he jumped out of his seat. Zack glared at him. "Not to the wankerisms, but to the time out. This is all too much. I think that we need a slight break to ponder this new information."

"But is Willow evil or not?" Anya said as she waved her arms wildly over her head.

"NO!!" Willow, Giles, Wesley, Dumbledore, and the rest of the wizards snapped.

*~*~*

"I think I’m going to cry," Kelly whimpered as the Scoobies, Angel Investigations team, Hogwarts staff, and Josh and Donna crowded into the library.

"It’s OK," Xander said putting a comforting arm around the brunette. 

"Thanks," she sniffled. "I know Kelly’s always a fountain of tears, but with the frustration and the whole preggers issue, it’s worse than usual."

"I know," Zack said softly taking her hand and sharing a panicked look with Xander. "Everything will be fine. But can we get a rundown of what we know?"

"We’re doomed?" Donna whispered.

"No. Not doomed," Dumbledore responded with a smile. "Though things are probably looking a little direr than anything the White House has shown?"

"Dire—no. Different—yes. I’ve seen a lot of hectic crazy stuff, but nothing that the word Apocalypse technically worked to describe."

"So we weren’t brought here because Snape wanted us to play for his birthday?"

Severus chuckled for a long moment before his face grew dark and serious again. "No."

"Then what?" Buffy asked.

"Willow knew the hardships that we were facing in our fight. We had exhausted all of the resources that the Order could find. Then I was we brought Willow in, she mentioned that she knew a group of people who would be our greatest chance of success in preventing Voldemort to go through with his plan," Dumbledore explained.

"So, we only came here ‘cause you wanted a chat with the Scoobies?" Spike said eyes growing wide. "There was no other point? You didn’t wanna hear us play a little diddy even?"

"I was assured that your musical talents were exceptional and I would have enjoyed to witness your performances from what I’ve heard."

"So, if we weren’t supposed to even play," Zack said trying to lift the fog of confusion, "Why did you make us do those ridiculous numbers."

"I got the lists from Dumbledore Two," Willow sheepishly admitted.

"Do we still get paid?" Spike asked before getting a slap of the arm from the Slayer. "What? I think after all that we’ve been subjected to, a little cash aing too big a grievance."

"Currently, money is the least of our worries," Minerva scolded. "If Voldemort becomes corporal, then there will no limit to the destruction he can cause."

"So," Giles said trying to gather thought. He removed his glasses as he paces the length of the room. "We know that we were brought here to help the…"

"Order of the Phoenix," Madame Hooch supplied.

"Yes," Giles said to her with a smile. "The Order. We know that there were two Dumbledores who I would blame for the circumstances surrounding Spike."

"’Least now I don’t look like a crazy," Spike muttered.

"We also know that the spell on the castle can be momentarily lifted," Snape irritated pointed out. "And that Professor Rosenberg can help us by getting us all trapped in the same bloody place while evil is out there and lives are in danger."

"Severus!" Willow barked. "Not now. Please. I know I’ve screwed up." She looked on the verge of tears.

The greasy old man actually looked remorseful as he stated, "I’m sorry. We tried ever harder to come through when we heard of Oz."

"Yes," McGonagall said putting a comforting hand upon Willow’s shoulder. "We were all terribly sorry to hear of the loss. I believe that Mr. Potter and Weasely along with Miss Granger send their deepest regrets."

"Thanks," Willow sniffled.

"Red?" Spike said walking over. "I just wanted to say that when we get more time, I know we need to have some talking. I owe you a lot of apologies that I haven’ figured out how best to word yet."

"It’s OK, Spike. All is forgiven. I hope."

"Sorry to be the rude one," Cordy said wrinkling her brows, "But again, where are we?"

"I think that we’ve decided that Lord Voldemort is the one responsible for this," Wesley said a bit doubtfully.

"I guess we don’t need to go into the whole ‘why then are Slater, Darla, Dru and Dr. Lecter here’ issue," Dawn pointed out.

"It doesn’t make sense why the Dark Lord would need to resurrect my ex-best friend," Zack pointed out dryly. "As much as I’d like to think so, I don’t play that big of a part."

"I think we should’ve just played that Bronze gig," Spike muttered as he went to stand by his buddy. "Lot less trouble."

"Said like you dislike the topic," Buffy snorted.

"Not at the time being, love."

"I see where we’re at…possibly," Giles stated. "I’m just confused on what all this information amounts to. Or how to go about researching this new developments."

"Where do we begin?" Josh demanded. "Where do we begin?"

Rosie grabbed her uncle and father’s pant legs simultaneously. "My tummy is still grumbly."

"Huh?" Both men said immediately losing their tough exteriors as they crouched down my the child.

"I think my tummy is going to eat me," she whimpered.

"Breakfast. Sod it all," Spike grumbled as he picked Rosie up. "How ‘bout we start with food."

"There might be an Apocalypse on the verge, but my daughter ain’t going to starve through it. Might die a brutal death, but—"

"ZACK!" Kelly said slapping his face.

"Truth has to be told," he murmured. "But we can die on full stomachs."

As the gang congregated back to the Great Hall, Xander muttered, "One lousy decent breakfast. Is it too much to ask?"


	21. Chapter 21

It was quickly determined after everyone had filled themselves, that a group this large of frustrated and overwhelmed bodies, should not all try to concentrate in one room. This decision caused the castle to go on high alert as souls spread throughout.

The most obvious and desirable places were first sought out and even some fighting was done. A strong one in particular broke out between Snape and Giles over possession on the library before Dumbledore allowed the professor to use his office.

Zack and Kelly chose a different route. They invited their vampire comrades to join them as the researched in their room. With two beds, Zack explained that it optimized in comfyness. "That and the common rooms are all taken."

They all realized that this plan was going to do little to help them come to a solution. "Is this making sense to you guys?" Kelly asked the group as they lounged.

Buffy and Kelly were situated on one bed with all the text resources that they had stolen to supply their research.

Zack and Spike on the other hand were taking a far more hands on approach—they had Rosie corned on the bed between them as they played and tickled with the child.

"I simply say we forget about it," Zack said absently as he tickled his daughter’s foot.

"How is that approach going to work?" Buffy countered.

"Dunno, but I have to say it’s much less stressful. I figure if I’m trapped in this place, why not enjoy it?"

"Ignore him," Kelly said rolling her eyes. "He’s still brassed that they didn’t sincerely want the band to play."

"Is Zangy feeling a bit unimportant?" Spike mocked. "No one wants you? Poor little Zangy." He tickled Rosie. "Tell Daddy how unimportant he is."

"You’re unimportant, Daddy," Rosie giggled as her father gave a mock horrified expression.

"I am?" He whimpered on the verge of tears before whispering something in the child’s ear.

"Uncle Spike, you’re a really bad dresser."

"Oi!" he said nearly falling off the bed. "Zangy, them’s fighting words."

"Don’t you try to best me. She’s my daughter, so I’m inevitably going to win, Bloody." 

"Well the jacket is a little dated," Kelly unhelpfully added.

The look on the Cockney’s face was priceless. "K-Kel?"

Her immediate giggles showed the truth behind her statement. After a few minutes her face grew serious as she added. "The hair sometimes is a turn-off."

"Huh? I turn you off?"

"I don't know if sounding disappointed about unimpressing my wife is in your best interest," Zack chided.

"I think it’s that fact that he always thought he was irresistible," Buffy said with a wink.

"I am," he scoffed, causing all three adults to bust out into rich laughter. Rosie simply giggled because people were happy.

"Grrr." Spike then proceeded to whisper something in Rosie's ear.

"What did you tell my daughter," Kelly giggled.

"Oh, you'll find out," he said coyly.

"It better not be bad," Buffy warned. "'Cause I won't find that irresistible at all."

"Do you even understand what I said, Bit?" Spike asked his niece. The girl's response was to shake her head.

"Well hurry up and say it Rosie," Kelly said warmly. "Nap time."

She looked up at her mother wide-eyed. "He said I needed to wait five minutes. Has it been five minutes?"

"Just forget it," Spike muttered.

"Is he blushing?" Zack asked the girls. "I could swear that color is on the verge of entering his features."

"That’s it. Tell ‘em Rosie," he grumbled.

"He’s…he’s deliciously shaggable," Rosie said with pride.

After the initial gasps of shock the next noise in the room the somewhat high-pitched yelp of a vampire tossed in the floor. "Oi, Morris."

"You had my daughter repeat that?" His eyes and tone did not match the anger his words were hoping to inspire.

"Spike," Kelly said with a frown. "Zack’s right."

"Daddy’s the most deliciously shaggable," Rosie called out seconds after her father whispered in her ear. "Did I say it right?"

"Perfect," he said giving her a high five.

"ZACK!" Kelly growled.

"Thanks, love," Spike beamed seconds after Buffy tossed the other blonde man into the floor.

"Ouch," Morris groaned as he crawled back on the bed.

"I did that for the poor innocent youth you were corrupting. Not for the fact that the statement was completely false."

"Hey now," Kelly laughed. "You’re talking about my deliciously shaggable husband now."

"Never thought I’d be the one saying this, but watch your mouths. Little lady needs her nap."

"Do I have to?" Rosie whined.

"Yes," both men said as they came at her on either side.

"What’s shag?" She asked as she crawled under the blankets, causing both men to start uncontrollably coughing. 

"Nothing, Sweetie," Buffy covered flawlessly. "We’ll be quiet so you can sleep."

"Are you going to shag while I nap?" This caused the women to begin their own choking while the men began to hysterically laugh. "Well?"

"No," Zack gasped as he clutched his chest. "No shagging with you in the room."

"I c-can’…" Spike said as he clutched his side with laughter.

"I think this might take a while," Buffy chuckled as she motioned to the giggling little girl.

"I think you’re right," The girl’s giggling mother agreed.

*~*~*

"I’m afraid that under the current circumstances I must ask," Dr. Lecter said to the man standing before him. "Is everything working according to the plan?"

"Of course. I don’t see how not."

"The real question is how long do we have before they figure everything out?"

"Sir, at the rate they’re traveling, Lord Voldemort will be back in power long before then."

"Yes," he hissed with a wicked grin. "Very good indeed."

*~*~*

Kelly released a deep sigh as she rested her head against her husband’s chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist tighter as snuggled up against her back as they lay upon the bed.

"Better be no shagging up there," Spike called from the floor where him and his wife were in a similar position.

"I don’t care what you’re thinking, Spike," Zack said with a smile as he murmured in his wife’s hair. "Not with my daughter in the room. Have to take that to the bathroom."

"Or at least a closet," Kelly said with a lazy smile. "Or maybe we should all take a nap. It did take an hour to get her down."

"I don’t feel like a nap," Buffy admitted as she batted her husband’s promiscuous hands away another time.

"Please," Zack scoffed. "I bet you two had sex this morning."

"Virgin ears!" the Slayer said tossing a pillow on the bed.

"Fuck, Buffy. I was using that. Zangy could you—"

"Here," He said holding the pillow out for the other man. "What I’m saying is that there is no need for you to get all libido driven when—"

"Things not working in the shag department?" Spike asked, not really meaning to tease, but unable to resist.

"No," Zack quickly denied.

"It’s me," Kelly shamefully admitted.

"Well, Kelly," Buffy soothed. "If you’re not in the mood it’s okay. You’re pregnant and—"

"No," she said almost as quickly as her husband. "It’s…it sounds bad."

"What?" The Slayer asked sitting up to look at the woman.

"She can’t ’cause she’s thinking of Slater," Zack begrudgingly divulged.

"So grow a mullet. Problem solved."

"Spike," Buffy said unable to help a smile from forming. "Besides, Zack doesn’t have good mullet hair."

"I think it would be too shaggy," Kelly admitted before elaborating. "No. It’s that I keep…I know I’m a whore, but I don’t know what I did."

"Well hon—" Spike said softly.

"Spike," she growled. "I know what I did. I just…I don’t know why."

"You should go talk to Jolly Green Giant," Zack replied. He then leaned over the bed to look at his best friend. "Isn’t this in his field of expertise?"

"Far as I know," he said with a shrug as he reached for a cigarette.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Buffy asked, glaring at the intrusion. Every fiber of her being was objecting to the thought of actually getting up.

"Dunno," her husband replied, lifting his head. "Who is it?"

No answer.

Zack tried. "Who is it?"

There was no answer.

Collectively, all four adults whispered in unison as to not wake Rosie: "Who is it?!"

They weren’t saying anything. Spike shrugged and settled, resting comfortably before he realized that everyone was staring at him expectantly. And they weren’t stopping. He rolled his eyes and grumbled, fighting for balance to his feet while muttering incoherently about the unfairness that was making the recently undead guy do all the sodding work.

He opened the door and groaned.

"Who is it?" Zack asked again, his view being obstructed by his friend in cahoots with his own leisure laziness.

"Just what I suspected," Spike replied cynically. "’S a big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock of Seagulls haircut and only one nostril."

"Oh man," Zack replied on the same note of sarcasm. His eyes had averted to the mirror and he could very clearly make out the lining of a familiar curly mullet. "I hate it when you’re right."

"Isn’t ‘big’ and ‘fat’ redundant?" Kelly asked.

"Depends on the context," Buffy replied.

"What do you want?" Spike snarled at the man so intrusively standing in his best friend’s doorway.

"I could ask you the same question," Slater replied, eyes widening speculatively. "What are you doing in Zack’s room? Trying for a little more one-on-one action with Kelly?"

His comment filtered inward and everyone rolled their eyes in response.

"Give it up, Slater," Zack called. "We’re all in here."

"Whoa, man. Didn’t know you were one for the orgies."

"Keep your voice down!" Kelly whispered furiously. "Rosie is napping!"

’Is there something horribly pressing you’re trying to get across?" Spike growled territorially. "Or can we get to the good ole ‘me killing you’?"

Slater snickered. "You wouldn’t try that. Not with the continuous wallowing and bending over backwards you’ve done to stay on your wifey-poo’s good side. Isn’t that right, William?"

"That wifey-poo you mentioned might be liable to help in the ‘Spike killing you’ department," Buffy snapped, fighting to her feet. She took her place next to her husband, eyes cold and unforgiving. Despite everything that had happened that had seemingly fallen under the heading of ‘not his fault’, the air of conspicuousness surrounding Slater’s reappearance could not be foregone for the sake of hospitality. She was still fighting the inherent urge to rip the bastard’s balls off for picking on William when he wasn’t at his best. "Do you have something remotely important to share, or are you just here to piss me off?"

"Wow, she’s feisty," Slater complimented, an ugly sneer sprouting on his lips. "Can see why Zack went for you."

Spike growled a bit but kept his reaction aptly schooled. There was no reason to play on that anymore. "Yesterday’s news, wanker. We’re over it."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"Again with the ‘remotely important’," Buffy said, not bothering to mask her boredom. 

"I might have some news that I’d be willing to share," Slater said cockily, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms. "For a price."

Spike and Buffy traded understanding glances. Should this git be telling the truth, they had no choice but to adhere. "All right," the Slayer agreed, turning back to him. "Talk."

"Didn’t say the information was free, Mama."

Spike growled again at the propositional tenor buried in the other man’s voice.

Buffy simply rolled her eyes. "Right. What do you want?"

"Be careful what you wish for, mate," Spike snarled slowly. "if you make one move that’s not to my liking…"

"Nothing that should affect either one of you," he informed them. "But I believe that Kelly and I have some unfinished business."

What happened next occurred too rapidly for any of the occupants save one to realize the flurry of events until it was over. Spike had vamped to full bumpies and shoved Slater clear across the hallway, banging his head unceremoniously against the stone backing. 

"Wrong answer," he sneered, neon eyes blazing. "Mate."

Slater choked a bit at the tight hold the vampire had around his throat, but still managed to bear his familiar cheeky grin in turn. "Can’t take me sniffing around your territory, is that it?"

The Spike merely tightened his hold, not reacting to the unmistakable sound of people filing into the hallway. Zack and Kelly now crowded the entry to their room, the door closed as to not wake Rosie. Buffy was standing closer in silent reminder to keep his wits about him, but similarly made no attempt to calm her outraged husband. Another measure in her acceptance to vampirehood.

"You think that rot bothers me?" he snapped. "Y’think I give a bloody fuck what you think of me or what I’ve done? You’re nothing but a sodding waste of space that should’ve remained digested—and oddly enough, this sounds so bloody familiar that I’m a hair away from saying ‘bugger it all’ and ripping your innards out for streamers. You have no bloody clue who I am, boy, and if I were you, I’d sure as hell hope it’d stay that way. I’m not some bloody pushover. I’m dangerous. I’ve killed wankers in the past for giving me a look that wasn’t to my liking. I’ve killed blighters for sneezing on my duster. I’ve killed just because I sodding feel like it. And I’ve killed enough ponces to the like of your style to fill me up every room in this bloody castle. And you know what I regret?" He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. "Nothing. Not a one. I bloody well enjoyed it. Right good times. You wanna fancy couple stories? Go sit next to Dru for two hours. She’ll fill your head right up with tales that’ll make you sport a nightlight for the rest of your useless days. I’ve had people beg for mercy, and it’s only made me kill ‘em just a little bit harder. It might’ve been a long time since I’ve taken a life outta cold blood, but it’s not like you forget how to do it. And yeah, I’m on the sodding honor role now, Junior; you better be happy with it. ‘Cause you’d be deader than Julius Caesar if I weren’t. But I gotta tell yeah—keep pushing me, and I’m likely to fall off the wagon." 

The look of sheer terror in Slater’s eyes was more satisfying than any endeavor assumed in the past. Spike relished it as he would the world’s richest blood, and found the taste to be more than satisfying. 

"Y-you wouldn’t, though," he stammered a minute later. "Y-y-your wife, she—" 

"Isn’t entirely convinced that you’re of the human variety," Buffy interceded calmly. "Despite the reaction you got on Spike’s chip—before it tallied up points on the extinction list, that is. And even so…I think he’s been more than fair with you."

"You’re the Slayer!" Slater spurted erratically.

"No," she retorted. "I was the Slayer. I’m a vampire now. And while my conscience still might be my guide, I really can’t speak the same for my husband. I think he’s been more than fair with you."

"Bloody right," Spike said. The grin he sported was enough to petrify anyone that marked points for his bad side. As though Christmas had been saved a thousand times over. "The lady’s right fair when it comes down to it. If she’s giving me the greenlight, I gotta say, you’re S.O.L. So be a good little boy…and tell us what you know." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Now."

Slater nodded furiously. "Okay, okay…I’ll talk." The look in his eyes clearly stated that talking had been the last intention in coming to them at all, but now that he was cornered, there was nothing left to do but comply. "V-V-Voldemort…h-h-he’s working w-wi-with s-s-s-s-some law firm in Los Angeles. They promised h-h-him reign over the w-w-wizarding world if he helped g-g-get rid of y-y-you."

Spike and Buffy eyed each other wearily, even as the vampire’s hold instinctively restricted. "Wolfram and Hart," they said in unison.

"They’d have just the mojo to throw Darla and Dru back in the game," Spike confirmed with a nod. "Even Muck-For-Brains, here."

Slater’s eyes widened obligatorily. "You think they brought me back?"

"Don’t rightly recall asking you anything," Spike snapped.

The man nodded. "Sorry," he said quickly. 

"Though, while you’re here," the vampire continued ponderously. "You might get on the wagon of clarifying why you and Kel—"

"Spike…" the woman said. "You don’t have to—"

"Ever got together in the first place? I know you know, mate. Call it intuition, call it not trusting you further than ole William could toss you. Call it whatever the bleeding fuck you want to. But you’re gonna share." Spike flashed his incisors brutally. "Aren’t yeah?"

"I swear!" Slater squeaked. "I have no idea what—"

"Wrong answer."

"Spike!" Kelly stepped forward and placed a disarming hand on the vampire’s forearm. "It’s all right. Let him go. He’s told us more than we need to know."

"Don’t know if I agree with you," Spike mused in turn. "How ‘bout you, Zangy? Satisfied?"

"Not hardly," Zack spat.

"I swear, I don’t remember anything!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. At this rate, they weren’t going to get anywhere. Thus, clearing her throat, she perturbed a low, displeased growl that came as secondary to her as breathing would have once upon a time. The reaction was immediate; Spike’s grip fell placid, an obedient whimper tumbling forward as he sensed his sire’s displeasure. Once Slater registered that he was no longer being held captive, he immediately seized the opportunity to flee down the hallway.

There was a collected pause as everyone regrouped, attempting to pinpoint what had just happened.

Spike realized, of course. And he scowled at her.

"That wasn’t nice, pet."

Buffy blinked, realization slowly washing over her. She grinned. "No," she agreed. "But it was fun. And hey! Does it work all the time?"

"Just till tonight."

"What’s tonight?"

"Like I told you at breakfast…I challenge your mastership. Still going along with that." A smirk settled over his lips. "You’re already too much of a dominatrix to be allowed that sort’ve mojo."

Zack held up a hand and began to count off. "One: Ew. Two: What the hell just happened? Three: Why did it happen? And four: Ew!"

Spike rolled his eyes and strolled over to the other side of the hallway. "Grow up, Zangy. I know for a fact you’ve heard, seen, and done worst."

"Okay, my turn to ew," Kelly volunteered. "‘Know for a fact’?"

"You haven’t been cheating on me again, have you?" Buffy mock-demanded before she and her surrogate sister exchanged a humored look and burst out laughing.

In turn, Spike’s eyes fixated resolutely on his wife’s. "Think I’ve proved a thousand times or more that I’m not a poof. It’s not exactly necessary to try and sully my manhood every time you get the chance."

"Yes it is," she argued coyly. "’Cause then you get all defensive and need to unsully it. Hence, the Slayer gets bonus happies."

Kelly and Zack looked to each other. "Ew," they said in unison.

Spike just smirked. "You want bonus happies, love," he purred. "All you gotta do is ask. And since when have you been dissatisfied with the number you get now? Last I knew, you—"

"Please don’t finish that sentence," Zack pleaded.

Spike chortled good-naturedly. "Just ‘cause you’re not getting happies doesn’t mean I’m gonna cap my own posing. ‘Sides, the Slayer chased off our prime source in the solving of your marital difficulties."

Zack rolled his eyes. "TIME OUT!" He called suddenly, mimicking his actions from earlier. Again, nothing except the further of skeptical glances emerged as result. A grumble sounded through his throat. "Someone should’ve sent me a memo when the ability to do that went away," he grumbled under his breath.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kelly demanded.

"Remember high school?"

"No, she suddenly forgot," Buffy intervened sarcastically.

Spike’s eyes narrowed at her. "Weak, Slayer," he berated with a gaze that told her plainly that he thought she was adorable.

"Sorry. It was the first thing that came to mind." 

"Shut up!" Kelly said in the loudest not-a-shout she could muster, mindful still of the napping child that rested peacefully on the other side of the door. "Yes, of course I remember high school. What about it?"

"Well, while we were at Bayside, I was able to make people stop at random, just by shouting ‘TIME OUT’ and doing this." Zack demonstrated the ‘t’ motion. "I think it wore off when we got to college. Either that, or I stopped doing it."

"So you’re telling me…" Kelly said slowly, "that all through high school, you had the ability to make time stand still…indefinitely…?"

Zack paused. "Now that you think about it," he mused thoughtfully, "that makes me sound kind of important."

"Or perverted," Buffy muttered. 

He looked at her askance. "I never!…but I suppose I could have. But I didn’t!" He said immediately off Kelly’s offended glance. "I did use it to get out of a few sticky situations, admittedly. That one time I made the dating service video and had everyone at school beyond pissed."

"Really?"

He nodded at his wife. "Yeah. Remember that Belding had a black eye? That was because Slater punched him out after I escaped his office."

"I always wondered how you did that."

"I can’t believe you didn’t capitalize on the idea, Zangy," Spike said in awe. "Me? I would—"

Buffy automatically (and obligatorily) stepped up to cover her husband’s mouth; tossing apologetic glances to the friends he was about to scar for life. "Honey," she said through gritted teeth, "I rather doubt that Zack and Kelly need a detailed list of every evil thing that you wish you could have done."

"Bet you do, though," Spike said cheekily when she moved her hand. "If you’re a good sire, I’ll give you a right and proper show and tell. It’s only fitting, seeing as you star in most of the ‘what Spike wishes he could’ve done’ scenarios. It’ll be good, pet. I promise. For. Your. Eyes. Only."

Kelly, deciding the best thing to do when he got like this was to ignore him, turned sharply back to Zack. "I can’t believe you never told me about this," she pouted.

"Sorry. I just didn’t know it was a big deal."

"Didn’t know?! You had the ability to stop time indefinitely and it didn’t strike you as maybe being a big deal?!"

Zack shrugged. "Seemed natural. I don’t even know how I started doing it. Just one day…bam…whoa-ness."

"And you berated me for quoting the sodding Matrix earlier," Spike complained.

"Actually, I think he berated you for quoting Keanu Reeves," Buffy pointed out.

Kelly frowned and sighed. "Not that you’re off the hook for that Time Out thing," she told Zack, "but the more we sit on this, the more it bothers me. What happened with Slater…if he says he doesn’t know…and no, I don’t believe him…but if he says he doesn’t know, chances are, he won’t be big with the telling of us. So I think it was probably a good idea…talking to Lorne about it. Seeing if he could read me. We have to find out what happened, Zack. I’m not going to be able to sit on it until we do."

A slow nod and he complied, gripping her arm for leverage. "Right," he said. "Right. We’re not going to sit on this any longer. Let’s go."

"Now?"

"Got any better ideas?"

"It’s all right, Kel," Spike said automatically. "The Slayer and I can keep an eye on the Bit. You’re right ‘bout the rest, Poodle. You do deserve your answers."

Kelly shook her head. "I want you two to come with me."

A still beat lounged through the hallway. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Besides Zack and Rosie, you two are the most important people in my life." She glanced down obligatorily as the vampires bristled at the compliment. "I want you to be there. Especially since not knowing what happened nearly damaged you as much as it’s damaged us."

Immediately, the Slayer’s eyes went wide with protest. "It hasn’t—"

"I believe the missus has spoken," Zack joked lightly. "She wants you to be there. I think it’s a good idea. Besides, it’ll be easier that way…we won’t have to recount everything later."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest once more before her eyes settled on the resolute form of their friend. There was no denying that look on her face. Or arguing with it. "Give me a minute, and I’ll go get Dawn," she volunteered, "to watch Rosie."

*~*~*

"Okay: lather, rinse, repeat…what?!" Lorne erupted comically, eyes slowly traveling down the line of people standing outside his doorway. "You want me to read Kelly?"

"She won’t quit this ‘I don’t know why I did it’ binge," Zack explained. "And truthfully, I’d kinda like to know, too."

"You sure this isn’t a surefire way to get away with killing the messenger?" the Host only partly joked. "Messing with something this serious and—hello!—in the past might only do to make the situation around here even hairier than it is. And children, that’s pretty damn hairy. I really don’t want to be responsible for the evil domination of the world and all. Especially if the news floating around this floor is of the true."

"What news?" the Slayer demanded.

"That a certain law firm we all know and hate is behind the reenergizing of You-Know-Who."

Buffy stomped her foot like an unruly child. "Did everyone know this before us?" she demanded. "I’m the Slayer…here! I’m the Slayer who’s here, and I should know these things!"

"It’s still hush-hush, sweetheart," the Big Green assured her. "But I tell you—with the vibes I’ve been reading ever since we arrived? Yowza! Big one for the big ugly. Yeesh. And the last thing I want to do right now is add to the hostility. Digging up painful memories can’t be with the helping."

"Neither can constantly worrying about it," Kelly whined. "Please, Lorne! I know for a fact that I can’t possibly feel any worse about it than I do right now."

"What about the truth?" he rationalized. "What if the truth—"

"It can’t be any worse than my mind is making it out to be. Trust me, I’ve thought through every scenario there is, and right now, I feel like I need to be punished for every one of them." Kelly began jittering impatiently. "Pllleeeeeaaaasseee, Lorne? Pretty please?"

One could literally see the Host’s resolve wavering. In seconds, his determination had crumpled altogether, and he was quickly ushering all four of them inside his room. "Oh fine," he said. "I can never refuse the want of a classy pregnant lady. But when the world comes to an end because of this, don’t blame me."

"Wow, nice room," Buffy admired.

"Thanks." He turned to Kelly. "Let’s get this over with before I change my mind. Now, pick a song—any song—and sing it while focusing on the heart of your concern. That should open up a whole walloping load of pathways for me to take, but being the natural leader that I am, I should be able to read right into the truth immediately. You understand me, sweetheart?"

"I think so." Kelly cleared her throat and prepped herself. "You ready?"

"As I’ll ever be."

She nodded, closed her eyes and concentrated, then began. "Yesterday…all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh I believe in yesterday. Suddenly…I’m not half the—"

Lorne gasped suddenly and made a motion for her to quit. "Right. Right. That’s enough."

She bit her lip uncertainly. "I suck, don’t I?"

"You sucked?" Zack yelled, outraged.

"She meant her singing, Zangy," Spike corrected.

"Oh. ‘Cause I was really gonna draw the line at sucking."

"Guys…" Was all Buffy could say as she pointed dumbly at the panicking green demon. "I think he saw the answer."

"No!" Lorne said, all too quickly. "Definitely didn’t see an answer. No answer there. Ummm…how about this. Why don’t we wait an hour and try again? Or better yet—once this is all over, we can—"

The Slayer’s eyes narrowed and she stepped forward. "Lorne…"

"Really, there was nothing to see. Nope. Nothing at all. Nada. Zilch. Hmm mmm. That is one empty noggin…not that it’s empty of course, but—"

Kelly’s face began to crumple. "It’s true, then, isn’t it?" she sobbed. "I’m a whore!"

"You’re not a whore!" Zack yelped, pivoting violently to Lorne. "And you know it, don’t you? You better start talking, Jolly Green. Tell my wife she isn’t a whore."

"You’re not a whore!" Lorne amended quickly. "It was nothing like that."

"Then you know what happened," Morris continued. "Tell us. Now."

The Host looked around and realized he was not only defeated, but also surrounded. A slump depressed his shoulders and he shook his head with worry. "I knew this was a bad idea," he muttered. "I knew it. So long, world!" With a lasting sigh, he turned once more to Zack. "You might wanna sit down for this."

"No," Zack snapped defiantly. "Tell me—us—now."

Buffy and Spike’s eyes met and they instinctively moved toward their blonde friend in preparation for detaining him. Whatever Lorne had seen had obviously not been of the pretty.

"Right," the Host said, nodding shakily. "Well, you know those…pills…that people can pop into other people’s drinks? The sort that make you…lose control of your…" His eyes widened as he saw realization sinking into Zack’s features. "Well, it appears that your so-called chum decided to use that on Kelly. He slipped it into her Chianti before they got with the naked tangoing. So…what happened was…"

"Are you…" Zack’s voice was so low it almost sounded possessed. "Are you saying that he raped her?"

When Lorne nodded pathetically, it was all the vampire and vampiric Slayer could do to keep Zack from lunging out the door. The man started wiggling and protesting, screaming shouts of bloody murder at the top of his lungs. His fury was potent enough that even the additive of supernatural strength was having difficulty keeping him schooled to stillness.

Kelly simply stood in the corner, mouth agape, completely dumbfound. She had absolutely nothing to say.

Heaving unneeded breaths of exertion, Spike’s eyes shot up to Buffy’s. "You got a right hold of him?"

She nodded, panting. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

Another nod as she pinned Zack to the ground with an exercise of force she usually tried to refrain from using. "Yeah."

"Right." With that, Spike burst into game face, emanated a terrible roar, and bolted into the hallway before his wife could stop him.

"Hey!" Buffy cried, allowing Zack to wiggle to freedom in her surprise.

But it was too late. Both blonds were long gone.

"Oh dear," Lorne gasped, collapsing onto his bed.

Buffy just glanced to Kelly in wordless wonder.

One thing was for certain: Slater was a dead man walking.

Again.

*~*~*

"You take that side, I’ll cover this one," Zack snapped after he caught up with Spike. They were in the middle of the hallway, but both began throwing doors open.

"Slater," Spike growled as he opened the first door he came upon.

"Ferris," the only male in the room commented.

"Is everything alright?" Slone asked.

"Sod off," he grumbled as he shut the door. He met Zack’s look and shook his head.

Zack opened the next door.

"Ahhh!" A half naked Anya shrieked. "Can I not even change in peace?!?"

"Sorry," he mumbled as he shut the door. He shook his head to Spike and began to walk away before turning back and throwing the door open again.

"Zack!"

"Is Slater in here?" he questioned.

"AHHH!"

He shut the door and looked to questioning Spike. "I’m taking that as a no. Next."

*~*~*

Buffy was instantly torn between taking off after her husband and friend or comforting one of her dearest friends in the world. One look at Kelly and her mind was made up.

Kelly stood wide-eyed in the middle of the room. She had not spoken a word since the revelation was stated, but simply stared off into space. Her breathing was so shallow that it looked nonexistent while her trembling was currently her only sign of life.

"Lorne?" Buffy asked as she came to Kelly’s side. She didn’t even bother addressing the catatonic woman.

"We need to catch them," he stated simply as he grabbed hold of the brunette. "That was what I meant about the end of the world. Neither one of those boys need another murder notched on their belts."

"But what about—"

"Let’s get her to some place safe. What about that Watcher of yours? Where could he be hiding?"

"Let’s go," the Slayer said grabbing the woman and heading straight to the library.

*~*~*

Donna sighed as she closed he book and tossed it down on Josh’s mattress. Besides the tension that was occurring with the realization that they were both alone in a room—with a bed—Josh’s bed—that Donna was on—both were getting frustrated with the lack of demonology that they possessed.

"Do you think that the President would know about this?" Donna asked as she flopped back upon the pillows. "’Cause if Josiah Bartlet doesn’t know about a topic, then I wasn’t meant to learn."

Josh smirked as he tried ever harder to understand if the cryptic language had any relevance to their current plight. "He does know about a lot. It wouldn’t surprise me. I wonder if he knows all these uses for talismans."

"I love them to death, but I think that I could live my life after escaping here without seeing Kelly, Buffy or even little Rosie again," she said throwing her arms over her head.

The movement caught Josh’s eye and he looked up to see the lush blonde sprawled out across his bed. Mischievous amusement filled his tone and features as he said, "I don’t believe that you are researching currently, Miss Moss."

"No Mr. Lyman. This is called a break. You should try one."

"Well, if you insist," he said cheekily as he dropped his book and scampered over to the bed where he flopped down next to the woman taking her into his arms.

"Joshua," she said bashfully.

"Donnatella," he mocked before leaning in close. "Tell me to stop if you want, but I’ve been wanting to this for years."

Donna more than understood him. She gave caution to the wind as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down for an Earth shattering kiss.

"I think I’ll follow your lead," Josh whispered playfully moments after their lips finally parted. He then proceeded to begin nibbling on her neck.

Donna moaned as she decided to take him up on that proposition as she untucked his shirt and ran her hands up till they made contact with his bare chest. "Your move," she whispered.

He seized the opportunity to roll on top of her as he snaked a hand up her blouse. He began fumbling with her bra as he kissed her again. "I." Kiss. "Just." Kiss. "Wanted…to." Moan. "Tell." Another Kiss. "You."

Donna pulled back and looked at his with eager eyes. "Yes," she encouraged.

"Donna, I lo—"

The door burst open so fast that it interrupted him mid-word. "Slater?" Spike said barging in.

"NO!" Josh yelled so loud that it startled the death-crazed vampire.

A moment of awkward silence occurred as both men stared at one another and blinked.

"Oh," Spike said with realization. "You’re sure he didn’t sneak in?"

"Yes," he lowly growled.

"Sorry." He went to shut the door and the couple sighed their relief, but seconds later he was present in the room once more. "Just wanted to say good on you, mates. Deserve to be getting’ a little loving."

"Wait!" Donna called to the vampire as she crawled out from under her lover and scampered off the bed. "Why are you looking for Slater?"

"You don’t wanna know," Spike grumbled.

"Talk," Josh demanded as he rolled off the bed and began to tuck in his shirt. As annoyed with Spike as he currently was, he could tell that there were more important problems than his current satisfaction level.

"Did you find him?" Zack asked running in the room.

"No," Spike said to his blonde friend before turning to the interrupted couple. "Let’s just say that we found out more’n we wanted ‘bout that night with Kel."

"Oh," Donna said. "Did she remember or just confess?"

"Not that," Zack growled so lowly that Spike thought in his best interest to restrain the man.

"What he means," Spike reasoned as they headed toward the door. It’s Slater didn’t take her in the most willful of ways."

"He raped her?" Josh blinked.

"Drugged her first,’ Zack said defensively. He knew that there was nothing Kelly could do either way, but the most primal part of himself was oddly comforted with they fact that she was incapable of physical restraint at the time.

"Where is the bastard?" Josh said as he walked to the door.

"Joining the hunt?" Spike inquired. "Only one rule. Can’t kill him. Leave that to me."

"Sure," Josh said as he barreled out the door.

"Again with the Morris’ killing the mood," Donna muttered to the empty room as she grabbed her shoes and followed.

*~*~*

Giles recognized the look of trouble when he saw the three walked in. His Slayer was actually carrying Kelly who he noticed looked more than traumatized. "What?" he instinctively demanded.

"Can you just watch her?" Buffy asked placing her in the chair next to him. "And whatever you do, don’t let Slater near her."

"Of course," he replied though still in an obvious confusion. "But what are you—"

"I need to find them," she answered curtly as she looked at Lorne. "Can you help?"

"Best I can. Less talk. More action there, Sweet-cheeks."

"My guess is that we are talking of the infamous duo of Morris and Bloody, Screw-up Extraordinaires," Xander speculated.

Buffy merely nodded as her and the Host headed toward the door.

The room turned to look at Kelly as she finally spoke up. "Lorne?" she called meekly.

The little voice was more than loud enough for the demon to hear. "What is it, Babe?" he said rushing back to her side.

"Did I… Was there? I just wondered if I resisted any."

Lorne almost succumbed to the tearful emotion behind her eyes. He would never lie even though this time he believed he had the words she wanted to hear. "You put up a good fight as long as you could. That man of yours would be proud of the things you said."

Kelly nodded as she drifted back to the world of searching for the memory in her mind while the library stared at her with utter perplexity. Lorne and Buffy were gone in the next instant. 

"Well," Wesley said at long last. "I believe that now would be a prime opportunity for Cordelia and I to take a much needed break."

"What?" She said miffed. "I want to know what this fuss is about. Murderous rage, newly undead men and fighting women—this sounds good."

"I don’t believe we have the right to intrude. Neither one of us is that acquainted with Kelly here nor the situation which seems to be a bit personal."

"Yeah," Cordy said with a nod. "She slept with him, but its fine, Wes. We all know it."

"Cordy," Xander pleaded. "Just go. I’m sure you’ll find out all the details later."

"I better," she said as she got up and straightened her skirt. This allowed Wesley ample opportunity to take her by the arm and drag her out of the room.

As the door closed shut, Xander turned to his brunette friend. The pain that he witnessed was evident—almost as strong as when he comforted her in the Great Hall only a few days ago. He knew though Kelly was always one quick to cry, she did possess a great deal of emotional stability. Seeing the woman, who had offered him a shoulder so many times during his emotional marriage, on the verge of collapse, tore his heart to pieces. "You want to talk?"

She shook her head and looked away in shame from both of their glances.

Giles took her hand. "That’s fine, Kelly. No need to worry. Xander and I won’t pry at all."

"You wanna research?" the young man questioned hoping that a change in subject would help ease her mortified tension. "You like to research. You know you’d come over and do that even on your nights off from the hospital." He picked up a book. "Hey, look! You’ve read this book before." He placed it on the table in front of her and opened the first page. "See. You wanna research?"

"Stop it," Giles snapped.

"I’m just trying to help her get her mind off whatever is bothering her," he whispered fiercely.

"You’re talking to her as though she’s Rosie and you’re instructing her on how to use a coloring book."

"I am not!"

"True. You don’t even talk to Rosie so simply."

"I’m fine," she muttered as she reached with her free hand for the book. She then clutched Xander’s hand and gave him an appreciative look. "Thanks, Xan."

"See," Harris huffed proudly to the older man. "I helped."

"Well good," Giles remarked as he squeezed the girl’s other hand. "Let’s research then."

All three resumed reading positions although none were concentrating on a single word on the pages before their eyes. Kelly grasped hold of both men’s hands in attempts not let go until minutes later she pulled away from both and buried her face with them on the table as sobs erupted from her.

"Not looking too good in the helping department," Xander reflected as he stared in helpless awe.

"Dear," Giles said putting his hand upon her shoulder. "Please open up."

"I…I’m not a whore," she said as she pulled her tear-streaked head up to face the Watcher before pulling her gaze away in shame.

"Yeah," Xander said trying his best to not say the word ‘duh.’ "I think you were the one with that insistence on the moniker."

"Kelly," Giles said ignoring the man and reaching up to gently turn her eyes to face him. "What ever do you mean?"

"I…we…Zack, Buffy, Spike and I, went to Lorne." She paused to sniffle. "I needed to know what happened with Slater. Like I’ve said, I didn’t remember anything."

"So you two didn’t have sex?" Xander asked eagerly.

"We did," she said miserably.

"I assume he did a reading," Giles softly prodded. 

Kelly nodded and swallowed as she fought to keep her gaze on the Watcher’s eyes. She tried again to move her head, but he brought his other hand up to hold her steady. "He…drugged me."

"What?" Xander leaned in closer hoping that he misunderstood.

"My God," the Watcher said in horror as he released his hold.

Kelly did not pull away though. She knew that sooner or later she was going to have to say the unspeakable words out loud. "He…Slater…raped me."

After a few seconds of telling silence, Xander bolted to his feet. "I’ll kill the son of a bitch."

"This makes more sense," Giles said pulling his glasses off and throwing them to the table. He looked at the crumbling woman and pulled her in his arms. "It’s all right, Kelly. He won’t hurt you again." He turned to an anger filled Xander. "Go to my room. In my black suitcase you’ll find weapons. Take all you want but bring me the sword."

With that, Harris was out the door and running.

"I don’t know if I want him dead," Kelly admitted when the two were all alone. "I mean I believe that he should be punished but is death the answer to every problem?"

"I don’t know, but he can’t be left alone in this castle any longer. That can be agreed upon, right?"

Kelly nodded before burying her face into his chest. "Giles…I know I’m not a whore, but I…I still feel so bad. Like this is still my—"

"No," He said coldly as he pulled her away to arms length. "You did not ask for this."

"Maybe I flirted with him," she wailed. "Do I flirt with you? I call you attractive, but I just think that’s being nice. Do I flirt with Xander…or Spike? I think if I flirt, then I flirt with Buffy. Do I flirt with her?"

"No," he said calmly. He couldn’t help but smile at the adorableness in her absent rambles. "Though I appreciate your compliments and continual interest in my romantic life, I don’t consider if flirtatious.

"And Buffy? I don’t flirt with her do I?"

He chuckled as he hugged her once again. "Not that I have seen."

"So this isn’t my fault?"

"Of course not." The look that she gave him afterwards was one of a woman on the road to acceptance.

"Then we better go find them before they do something they won’t regret later."

*~*~*

"What rooms have you tried?" Josh asked once he began trekking down the hall on the blonde duo’s heels.

Spike ignored the question as he began opening more random doors. Zack answered with a shrug before adding, "It doesn’t matter. He might try and hide somewhere where we’ve already looked."

With that Josh threw open a door to find a bewildered Anya—now fully clothed—

standing in the middle of her room. "No!" she yelled. "No Slater here!"

Blink.

Pause.

"OK," Josh said slowly.

"By the way," The ex-vengeance demon commented as he went to close the door. "Your fly’s open."

"Dammit," Josh mumbled as he slammed the door shut and adjusted his pants. He looked back at a sheepish Donna. "I didn’t know you did that."

The blonde woman shrugged.

Before Josh could comment, both Spike and Zack nodded to one another and burst open a bedroom door yelling, "Die bastard!"

"What the hell?" A bewildered Dawn screamed, causing Rosie to immediately wake from her dream-filled slumber.

"Daddy? Uncle Spike?" The child sleepily whimpered.

"Bugger," the men said in unison before looking at one another and simultaneously saying, "This is your fault!"

"Again with the what the hell?" Dawn demanded.

"We were looking for Slater," Zack muttered.

"In your room?" The young Summers girl replied skeptically. "How dense are you two? And I guess that things didn’t go well with the reading?"

"Splendid," Spike dryly retorted as he walked over to his friend’s nightstand a picked up his open pack of cigarettes. Zack had quickly decided that any attempts to hide his addiction from his wife would be fruitless. "That’s why we’re going in every room with a battle cry."

"We found out that things with Kelly weren’t as…predicted." Rosie’s father chose his words carefully since he knew the child was attentively listening.

"How?"

"Well," Donna said walking into the room. "Let’s just say that the situation was one sided. Slater had all the desire and Kelly had all the resistance."

"You mean she—"

"Yeah," Zack growled. "He…he…" When he glanced at his daughter he knew that he couldn’t finish. Instead he turned and walked out of the room.

"Should we go after him?" Josh asked pointing to the door.

"No," Spike grumbled. He walked over to Rosie and kissed her worry-streaked forehead. "Sorry, Nibblet. I know that we’re always going mucking things up. "’S all right though. Promise."

"I bewieve you, Uncle Spike." She then offered one of makes-the-world-brighter smiles.

Spike sighed as he turned to the rest of the group. "Donna, stay with Nibblet. Bit here I know it’s gonna wanna go find the bastard. Josh, you go with Bit. I need to find him ifore he stakes himself." With the orders given, he was out the door.

*~*~*

When Zack had walked out of the room he ran as fast as he could before reaching the end of the hall and collapsing at the stairs. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself, but for the wife that he had so bitterly resented over the past four years.

Though they had never spoken much about the night, Zack had always had a feeling of overwhelming disgust hidden deep down inside. Those were the times he pitied himself for being married to an unfaithful adulteress.

But now he knew the truth. Though it set Kelly free from the years of guilt and accusation, he brought to light to Zack how victimized she truly was. Not only by Slater and herself—by him.

He had hurt his wife more than he ever wanted to realize; first by not believing her when the situation with Spike occurred, and now with the truth that she had been faithful all the time.

He wanted to give her the world and his soul all on a silver platter. He wanted to make all their troubles go away so that they could be a happy family again. He wanted to fix their problems so she wouldn’t hurt anymore. And he knew just how.

Slater must die.

Again.

He sobbed as he privately fought the demons of unbearable grief and rage. He wanted to hold his wife in his arms while he wanted to use the same ones to choke the life out of a certain man’s body.

"Hey," A voice called pulling him back toward the world around him. He looked over to see Spike kneel down beside him.

"She…" Zack choked. "I blamed her, Spike."

"I know."

"And…I can’t believe that all this years I’ve been begrudging her for that."

Spike put a comforting arm around his best friend’s shoulder. "I know it hurts. We’ve all did a little blaming. Kel included. Now get over it." 

"I know," Zack groaned as he wiped the endless stream of tears from his eyes. "I just…hate myself more than I did before. And trust me Bloody, with the whole assuming thing, I was hating myself pretty good."

"Bet you were," Spike nodded. "But now we got to go find that sonofabitch ifore he gets any more ideas. That and revenge is sweet," he added with a faint smirk at the end.

"Touché," Zack said with a smile that never fully reached his eyes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt Spike come stand up beside him.

"We’ll get through it," Spike remarked with a shrug. "We’ve been going through hell since we got here." He then held out an open hand that Zack accepted as he stumbled to his feet.

"I think," Zack said as he leaned against the banister. "That if we survive this trip and can still get along, that we’re going to be friends forever." He shuddered as soon as the words left his lips.

"Sod off, Morris," Spike snapped when he witnessed the action. "Calling me your friend a little much for yeah after I save your lousy arse?"

"No," he said giving his friend a seemingly annoyed look that only Spike and Kelly could fully read. "I just remember a song from Zack Attack that had that title. Bad memories." He pondered a second before saying. "Eternity. Eternal friends. Didn’t use that vocab in high school."

As Zack stole his pack back from the platinum vampire, Spike said. "’T’ween you and me, this plan of ours isn’t working so splendidly. Say we try the lower levels and maybe have Red work up a little mojo. I can’t track his scent anywhere."

"Deal," Zack sighed as he turned to walk downstairs. He tossed the pack to Spike, who lit one up before tucking it back in his pocket.

"By the way," Spike smirked. "Have I told today how wankerish ‘Zack Attack’ was for a band name."

"Hey," Zack defended with an amused smile now inhabiting his features. "I came up with Dysfunctionals."

"And I know I told you how poncy that one sounded."

"Like Ghost of the Robot was any better," Zack snorted.

"That’s enough out of you, little boy."

Before another quip could be spoken, a breathless Xander appeared before them on the stairs.

"Too late," Zack remarked with a nod. "Anya’s dressed. You’ll just have to wait till bed time."

"Huh?" the dark haired man asked before deciding best not to ask how he discovered such information. "No. I’m going for weapons."

"Who’d you brass off this time Stay Puft."

"They’re for Slater."

Zack grabbed him by the neck at the mere thought. "You better change your tune. After you tell us where he is."

"Again with the huh?" Xander said immediately shaking his head when realizing the misunderstanding. "No, dumbass. Kelly told Giles and I. So now we’re breaking out the weapons."

"How’d he get those over when I was having trouble with a sodding VCR? Never mind. Moving on," Spike said with a shake of his head.

"You mean Giles is joining the hunt?" Zack said momentarily taken aback.

"Do the words ‘bring me the sword’ say anything to you?"

"Wait," Spike growled throwing is hands in the air. "That means the Slayer is out on the prowl. Bugger it all. I’m getting’ to him ifore she gets the chance. Let’s hit it, Zangy," he said grabbing the blonde headed human by the arm.

"What’s the matter? Hello human," Zack pointed out.

"Yeah, well she may not count him that way with the whole miraculous and suspicious reappearance. Houdini wasn’t that good at disappearing and I doubt Muck For Brains was that talented either."

"All right. Let’s go. I’m back in the killing mood."

"Pardon us Harris, but we have a bastard to kill," Spike said almost eloquently as they descended down the stairs. 

*~*~*

Drusilla was cackling, and that was never good.

"The sky is about to open," she squealed with delight. "No one can stop the lark from singing. Sweet nightingale. Born to the night, just like me. Singing sweetly until the nasty lark comes to chase you off. Bad lark. The sun will do nasty things to you when she wakes." With another demented cackle, she pivoted to Slater, eyes shining like gems. "You have been a very bad doggie," she scolded, performing the international sign for ‘shame on you’ before bringing her finger to her lips. "No treats for the bad doggies, you hear? No, no…no treats at all."

Slater merely stared at her in slack-jawed wonder. Then Darla and Angelus emerged from their bedchamber, the former rolling her eyes. "What did she say this time?" she demanded off the jock’s dumbfound expression.

Angelus, being the insane vampiress’s sire, had always had a bit more patience with her than even Darla could muster. It wasn’t often he exhibited more in the spirit of candor than anyone, but as the girl’s responsibility, the innate tie he felt to her could not be ignored. It was inbuilt in nature—as true as the earth’s rotation. "What is it, Princess?" he asked softly, taking Drusilla’s hand. "What did my girl see?"

She was grinning madly. No real surprise there. She usually was, unless something had upset her. Then she would start pulling her hair out as she moaned and writhed. It was astonishing just how quickly such a frail shell of a woman could steal the hearts of so many vampires. "Shhhh, it’s a secret," she whispered loudly, pawing over to her sire with a childish quirk. "Miss Edith told me not to share. She’ll be so disappointed if I break my word."

Angelus cocked his head. "Since when do you take orders from Miss Edith?"

"I don’t. She whispers lies against the night wind and makes it impossible for the children to have their cake and milk."

"Then it won’t hurt a teensy bit if you whisper into your doting father’s ear what the naughty girl has been telling my Princess."

Darla rolled her eyes. "I swear," she scoffed. "Living among them has made you go soft, Angelus."

He merely flashed her an unrepentant grin. "Watch and learn, lover." A breath and he neared his protégé, attracting her eye with the slightest touch. "Don’t you want to be a good girl for Daddy?"

There was no hesitation. Drusilla began nodding erratically.

"Then hurry now and tell Daddy what you saw."

Again, not a beat was spared. She fell to her knees unceremoniously and straddled her wrists, raven hair flying back as her eyes narrowed in on Slater. "My William is going to rip out your innards," she informed him gleefully, rocking back and forth. "The bad green man has shared all your secrets—now they hunt you, turning, searching, lurking down every corridor. Not nearly enough time. No. We don’t want to make the King of Cups unhappy. That won’t do at all. Oooohh!" she threw her head back, grinning as though she had just reach some orgasmic bliss. "My boy likes to play. He wants to taste your blood. He wants to pour it down every hallway and dance naked under the moonlight. He is a vulture, circling around the dead. And you…" Her eyes opened and cleared, centering resolutely on a petrified Slater. "You are the lark, and he is going to make you bleed all over."

The insane vampiress dissolved into another sea of chuckles, not reacting to the apathetic looks her elders delivered the stammering boy in his wake. Slater’s eyes had widened and he was notably panicked. The scenario only served to amuse.

"They know?" he yelped. "How do they know?"

"Weren’t you listening?" Darla snapped. "They finally wised up and turned to the empathy demon. He read Kelly and now you’re dead. No wait, scratch that. You’re deader than dead. I would suggest you allow Angelus and myself the pleasure of ending you now, out of mercy, of course, but I think it will be of much more amusement to watch them hunt you down." She sighed her exasperation and turned to her lover. "I never understood why Wolfram and Hart thought it essential for us to ally ourselves with such pitiful…humans. It disgusts me."

"Ahhh, but darling," he cautioned her, "you forget. Albert was brought back for the very reason he is being chased. To allow him to die again so soon would be—"

"Since when do you give a flying fuck what the Senior Partners think? The Angelus I knew would never allow himself to be controlled like this." Darla’s eyes narrowed. "Right?"

"Of course."

"Then why?"

"Because…" He took a bold step near Slater. "I don’t think it would be nearly as much fun to watch William enjoy the spoils of war. Why not prolong their suffering? Offer the boy what protection we can now…their added frustration will only play to our advantage." He took the opportunity and pulled her flush against him. "And you know how much I favor being in the lead."

A slow, steady smile spurned across Darla’s face, and she giggled uncharacteristically. "Oh yeah, baby," she agreed. "Which makes it all the more fun to take the lead away from you."

"Wanna test out that theory?"

"Always." She turned to Drusilla, who was still on the floor, and beckoned her forward. "Come on Dru, honey. Playtime." As an afterthought, she called over her shoulder. "Oh, and bring the human along with you."

A minute froze by as Dru pried at the jock’s stunned shoulders. "Come on now, dearie," she cooed, licking the shell of his ear. "It’s not nice to keep grandmum waiting."

Slater’s eyes went wide as saucers. Either he was in Heaven, or he had no idea what anticipated him in Hell

*~*~*

"You know," Zack was saying, voice low as he and Spike scoped out yet another vacant hallway. It was rather amusing watching his chum’s intensity in the search increase to levels beyond comprehension at the very thought of being outdone by his ‘killing humans is a bad thing’ policy-holding missus, but the situation was too serious to merit a laugh. "It was my fault…my paranoia…that came between you two in the first place."

Spike tossed him an irritated glance from the door he was about to kick in. "You still on that?" he grumbled.

"You need to know that before we came here, Buffy trusted you completely." Zack sighed and willed his inevitable emotional outburst inward. It wouldn’t do well to lose his wits again, especially when he needed them so much. Their previous resolution to stick to the hunt had lasted a faithful half hour, but he was getting a familiar feeling of dread in his stomach—akin to waiting for that package he had ordered off Ebay that had never arrived. Like they would never find the man that had formerly haunted every corner there was to haunt in the damn castle. How was it that the objective of the hunt always became obscure when it was upgraded to that—an objective?

The notion had him so thoroughly irritated; he thought it better to keep talking.

Talking was good. Therapeutic. And yes, while he had done more talking in the past two weeks to merit the next seventy-nine lifetimes, he still knew it was needed.

Especially with the still-palpable rift between his best friend and the Slayer. Allowing his own marriage to get so thoroughly buggered was one thing—now he had to deal with the added guilt of messing up the one shining bit of happiness Spike had truly had in the entirety of his existence—life or unlife. Before the transformation into being pulse-having, he had thought them to be past this.

The Slater-Kelly-rape thing was a nasty wake-up call. 

"I know she did," Spike replied airily, a grumble rumbling through his throat at the vacant room he had uncovered. Who knew this place had so much sodding square feet? "Don’t do the poncy thing and drag me into this, Morris. We’ve already sung our Kum Bai Ya’s to this tune."

"All those years…my jealousy…my…my anger was misplaced." Zack shook his head heavily. "It was just waiting to erupt. Waiting for the breaking point. Even if Slater hadn’t reappeared, even if we hadn’t taken this lousy sham-of-a-gig, even if we hadn’t…" He broke with a sigh that could rapidly melt into furthered sobs if he wasn’t careful. "I would’ve allowed it to fester…and grow…and bloom…until one day I erupted and destroyed the one good thing that has ever happened to me."

"Rosie," Spike pointed out.

"Yeah, Rosie, too. She and Kelly are one big package of goodness. I’ve screwed up a lot, Spike. Done things I’m not particularly proud of—some I’m still hesitant to share with you." He hazarded a glance up and managed to refrain from rolling his eyes when he spied the shadow of a smirk cornering his friend’s mouth. "Everyone…despite my…popularity, everyone always figured I’d amount to nothing. They were wrong. I amounted to something…through Rosie and Kelly. They’re my world…and I’ve done practically everything to fuck that up."

"It wasn’t your fault, Zangy," Spike said softly. "Kel thought she’d done the same, remember? She was so bloody sure if it. Any bloke would’ve thought her guilty. Hell, even I thought she was guilty."

"You also thought, up until last year, that the tooth fairy was real."

is friend’s eyes bulged humorously. "She sodding is!" he snapped. "Ask anyone! Hell, even Ripper knows she is. It’s in the bleeding Watcher’s Diaries, documented under BP. Doesn’t take teeth and leave little coins, though. She bloody well slaughters nasty children." 

"If that were the case, she would’ve offed the Spawn years ago." 

"She’s gotta be summoned, mate. You see…" Spike trailed off when he realized the conversation was going nowhere. "But that’s beside the point."

"What does BP stand for?"

"Bad Pixie," Spike retorted. "Listen, mate…you and the missus have a lot to sort through. No one’s saying otherwise. You’ve said your nasty piece more than once, and I think I have the right to say that no one has been on their best behavior on this trip. But you’re not responsible for all of it, just like Kel’s not responsible for what that wanker did to her, and you’re sure as hell not to be blamed for my marital spat with the Slayer. That’s a whole other ballgame, Zangy. Your problems were with trust. Ours are with understanding." 

"And she trusts you."

"I know she—"

"But she didn’t for a while, and that was my fault." Zack shook his head. "You know when we were in Washington, the night you stole the VCR?"

"Hey, you can’t prove that." 

His eyes narrowed. "I believe broadcasting it to three counties sufficed as more proof than even Johnny Cochran could contest," he observed cynically. "Besides, as we pointed out, no one does the Billy Idol/duster/bad-ass thing but you. And if they did, they couldn’t pull it off to any degree."

"Really? You’re not just…and I’m not bloody imitating Billy Idol! That sodding git stole my look an’—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Zack waved a hand airily. "The point is, that night, Buffy and I were late coming back in from the video store because we got into a discussion about trust. My ‘don’t-trust-anyone-even-your-best-friend’ radar was going wonky even then. And she told me things…things that made me just writhe in envy of the relationship you two have."

"Zangy, with as delicious as it is being hitched to the Slayer, we still have our load of problems."

"Well, yeah. But it’s nothing huge."

A flawless brow arched. "You call having to convince the chit that she’s really a vamp nothing huge? Well, not convince…but teach her how’s done? Like walking across fire and brimstone, and we both know how easily I burn."

"That’s not the point."

"Then tell me, Oh Omnipotent One, what exactly is the point, since you’re so bloody keen on the subject?" Spike chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. 

"Her dealing with being a vampire is very different than her not trusting you," Zack said softly. "Up until recently, that’s one thing you guys have always had. Trust. And the only reason it was jeopardized in the first place was because of me. She told me…she told me that night that she trusts you more than anything to never hurt her."

"I wouldn’t!" Spike’s eyes widened at the very insinuation. "Well, other than my demon going all wonky."

"Which also wasn’t your fault."

"Y’can’t really know that, Zangy."

"Then how come I do?" Zack shook his head dismissively. "The point is…whatever trust issues that you and Buffy had—or are having—they’re my fault. And I’m really, really sorry. To kill the fucking cliché, sorry’s not a big enough word for how bad I feel about that."

"’S not really your fault."

"I didn’t trust Kelly, and I took it out on her by making the people she trusted suffer in turn. How can you call that not my fault?" He was almost trembling with self-aimed fury, unable to help himself. "God, I’m such a jerk. I’ve done my best in two weeks to ruin the lives of everyone I care about."

"Not only that, y’don’t shut your yap about it." Spike diligently took Zack’s arm and forced him to a standstill. "Look, mate, if there’s one bloke on this sodding planet that I do trust, it’s you. More than Ripper, and a helluva lot more than Harris. As you’ve so astutely pointed out in the past, I don’t play well with the boy puppies. Don’t rightly trust them—never have. So you mucked up. Here’s a point: Who fucking cares? We’re not dead because of it. We’re not torn to bloody pieces. Yeah, things were wonky there for a bit, but they’re not anymore. Takes more than a two-bit pulser to knock me to my feet. If I can deal with Hellgods, crazed Slayers, and Harmony, you’ve gotta have some ego to think that whatever you put me through is means to an end. The Slayer and I are fine. We’re fine. Hell, after all this, we’ll probably end up closer than we were before. You and Kel…’s just made you come to the realization of something you knew from the start."

"What’s that?" It was nearly a whisper.

"That you can’t bloody well live without her. And the thought’s enough to make you go bum-shagging crazy." Spike shook his head and began fishing for his cigarettes, mindlessly offering one to Zack as they continued down the abandoned hallway. "With everything that’s happened, there’s no sense in trying to assume all the blame."

"Now you’re stealing my song," Zack said with a faint smile, lighting up. He exhaled deeply and felt his insides warm with beautiful nicotine. It amazed him that he had ever once thought this habit was something to frown upon—even if it was the noted number once cancer-causing substance on the planet. Against the Hellmouth, he couldn’t find just grounds to issue a complaint. "Just a while ago, it was me trying to convince you that you weren’t to blame for trying to kill us all."

"Yeah, and I still say you’re off your nutter about that."

"Spike—"

"It wasn’t you snarling and clawing and trying to rip everyone to shreds, now was it?" Spike shuddered visibly at the memory. He hated it how the very thought of violence could affect him—regardless of a soulful disposition. Someone with his track record was not supposed to scorn the idea. And yet the idea was scorned…and then some. "I know we joke ‘bout it, but what I told the Walking Dead earlier was the truth. I’ve done things you can’t imagine. Things I’d prefer you all not try to picture. Sometimes it catches up with me. The places I’ve been. The things I’ve seen. The people I’ve slaughtered. That’s what it was too, Zangy. Slaughering. By the bloody masses. I’ve killed…" He stopped and choked visibly. "I’ve killed children no bigger than the Bit. There was an orphanage in Vienna and I…" Emotion rattled his entire body, consuming to a brink of no return. Zack had never seen Spike reflect on the things he had done with any sense of regard, thus the sight nearly blew him away. "There’ve been hospitals and charities and churches—oh, I usta have a bloody field day ripping through the churches. Killing off the bishops an’…and it’s me, you get it? I did it. I’m the one. You can’t go off and blame it on some demon, or whatever it is that’s inside me. You’re looking at him, mate. Right here. Guilty as bloody charged. And yeah…now that I got the touchy feelies, I weep for them. I bloody well resent myself. I care." A short, nearly insane laugh escaped his throat. "I care. How rich is that? William the Bloody—Scourge of Europe, cares about what he’s done. No soul. Hmmm mmm. Not for me. She’s humanized me, it’s what she’s done. She’s made me a wanker without so much as…I always told myself that the day I cared was the day I oughta be staked right and proper. And I—"

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"That she’s humanized you?" Zack held his breath, knowing that an affirmative answer would force him to restructure everything he ever believed about his friend. Sometimes the weight of vampiric crimes escaped his hindsight. While he knew the blood that stained Spike’s hands was real, it all seemed so foregone that it might as well have been someone else. Another person who looked like him. Who dressed like him. Who was him, but not.

"Do I regret it? Sodding no." Relief coursed through his entire system, and he hated himself for doubting him at all. "But I remember it being fun. And it was fun, Zangy. It was fun making a bloody mess wherever I went. Tearing families up for the hell of it. Shagging Dru in the middle of the Vatican because I could. Because I was a rebel. A bloody badass. The memories I have…they’re rich. And I resent them. I resent them and myself…myself for not resenting them as much as I should. ‘Cause I know she thinks about it when I don’. Buffy trusts me—yeah—she trusts me. And I’ll go the rest of my days making bloody well sure I never give her a reason to stop. But she also knows what I am. She knows it. And it still…it amazes me that she chose me over…over the one who…"

"It really shouldn’t."

Spike shook his head. "I know, I know. I changed ‘cause I wanted to. ‘Cause she made me want to. She made me want to be a man and not a monster. William the Infernally Whipped." Emotion started fluster once more. "And it kills me. It kills me to think of…I tore them all apart, Morris. Every last one of ‘em. Women like Kelly. Younglings like Rosie. If I haden’t…things might’ve gone so much…what if I’d met you under different circumstances? What if I’d—"

Zack laughed at that, startling them both. "We’d be here forever if we started going over all the possible ‘what-if’s’, Spike. The important things lie in what we did do, not what we didn’t."

Spike sniffed and forced himself to reign his emotions inward. Bloody embarrassing to have a breakdown now, considering the circumstances. "Right," he said, forcing a nod. "Right. Just like you and Kel, right? You didn’t fuck everything up, mate, so you can’t blame yourself because of it. We’re gonna bleed penance until it runs in the streets at this rate. I can never change what I’ve done, but I can always try to atone for it." He giggled erratically at that. "Atone. Something a soul-‘aving git would do. See what she’s done to me?"

Zack smiled kindly. "She made you into a better man."

"No. I made me into a better man." A goofy smile spread across Spike’s face, contrasting the pain still bedded in his eyes. The same that could never fully wash away. "She was just my muse. My bloody inspiration. And with all this Slayer boohoo, she’s as mucked up upstairs as I am."

"You two make a helluva team."

"So do you and Kelly."

"Yeah, with the her blaming herself, me blaming her, then me hating myself for blaming her."

"No. Not that. You just make a helluva team."

They looked at each other with revered esteem, but said nothing in turn. Then they were walking again, mission renewed. 

"So, you’re going to help Buffy accept the part of her that’s vampire?"

"All of her’s vampire, mate," Spike replied easily, puffing away at the rest of his cigarette. "But yeah. Starting tonight. There’s something I need to do."

"Why do I have a feeling that it’s going to be another reason you owe us guilt presents?"

"We owe you what?" He cocked a curious brow but shook the notion off the next second. "Whatever. And no. There’ll be no corrupting the youth tonight. Not unless you, Kel, and the Bit fancy a midnight stroll next to the Forbidden Forest, or whatever these gits call it."

"You’re taking Buffy to the forest?"

"Gotta, mate. It’s all a part of the gig. And yeah, while I’d prefer a good ole fashioned graveyard, the forest’ll hafta do." He grinned devilishly. "Two lessons in one tonight. Gonna challenge her mastership and teach her why vamps need the hunt. It’s gonna be a lot of fun."

Zack frowned. "What’s this about ‘challenge her mastership’? This is the second time I’ve heard you mention it and the entire scenario sounds very S&M to me."

"It’d probably look the same to anyone who didn’t know what they were seeing," Spike conceded cheekily. "’S a very powerful trade. I don’t know of many vamps who’ve accomplished it. Usually, the challenge is not accepted, or wanted by the sire. Being a sire is right important and bloody powerful. It’s a measure of authority that many don’t fancy giving up. You’ve seen it. Dru used her power over me like none other."

"You never challenged her?"

"I never wanted to. With Buffy, it’s different. We’re equals in everything. She’d agree. I don’t wanna control her, and she doesn’t wanna control me. If this is pulled off with any measure of success, it’d be like a concession to the demon world that we’re matched completely." Spike shivered at the mere thought, eyes shining with anticipation. "There’s nothing like it, Zangy. You can never understand. Being married to her is one thing. Being mated is an entirely different game. And as soon as this mastership claim is over…" He shivered again. "It’s gonna be bloody beautiful." 

For the briefest minute, Zack had a wondrous look of speculative haze in his eyes, and it wasn’t difficult to place. It only lasted seconds. Before Spike could call him on it, Clarice erupted from the room they were about to investigate. 

She took one look at them and wasted no time with pleasantries. "You’re looking for Slater?"

That was it. Professional frontages strategically back in place. Zack’s speculation melted once more into the fury that had commanded him from the beginning. "Yes," he snarled. "Do you know where he is?"

"He’s with Darla, Angelus, and Drusilla," she spat bitterly. "They’re protecting him. You’ll never find him with the way you’re going about it. Hell, Giles has been looking for the pathway to their lair for days with no success. What makes you think a vendetta’s going to help you at all?"

Spike’s eyes narrowed. "Hmmm…and suddenly, I’m so painfully bored. What’d they do? Send you out here to go ‘na nana na na’ before running back? Don’t think so, sweetheart. I think a dust-o-gram would get the message across nice and clear. What do you think, Zangy?"

A stake fell easily from the insides of Zack’s sleeve. The passing years had taught him to always keep one handy if need be. "Oh yeah," he snapped. "I think that would get the point across very nicely."

Clarice’s hands came up immediately in ode to surrender. "Hey, white flag here, I quit."

Spike frowned. The words were too familiar for comfort. His negative pretense immediately dropped. "Whas’sit you want, pet?"

"They didn’t send me out here," she replied calmly. "I came on my own grounds." When both the men had backed down sufficiently, Clarice nodded with a look of strenuous sincerity. While they knew trusting vampires was a not, it was near impossible to negate such a disposition.

Especially since Spike had been there before.

Zack remained blissfully unaware of his friend’s jaunt down Memory Lane, though he did seem a bit more on the understanding side than he would betray. "What exactly are you up to?" he demanded.

"I’m up to nothing at all." Clarice lowered her hands completely. "I’m here to help you."

Zack looked skeptically at her, before looking to his friend. "Well...shall we give this a try or not?"

"Worse that'll happen is she tries to ambush us. Given you and me against her, odds aren't quite to her advantage." He cast his eyes to the vampiress. "Understand?"

"Look," she said with an almost pleading face. "I want you to get him. Kill him. Stake them all for what I care. He dumped me. For her."

"Sorry," Zack said to his cousin apologetically. "I guess I didn't think about it quite from that way." 

"So join the Revenge Academy," Spike said airily as he began to walk forward. "Let's go."

"You wouldn't believe what he's done," Clarice commented as she led them towards Angelus's secret chambers.

"Are you kidding?" Zack snorted. "Hello. I live in Sunnydale. I'm trapped in an enchanted wizarding castle where I'm tracking down my crazy ex-best friend to kill him. After I did once at our home. Have we met?"

"Point taken. But he chained me up and made me watch him and Darla."

"Now with these chains," Zack pondered with interest. "Did they hurt or were you simply stationary? And what positions were you placed in with the—"

"Zangy?" Spike replied in bewildered amusement. "Don’t tell me you got a cousin complex?"

He arched a brow and shook his head. "What? I was just thinking about...well Kel and I like to get inventive and we haven't gone down that road. Yet."

"I see," he said with a grin. "We'll talk later. Got a few ideas with some chains might be to you and the missus’s fancy."

*~*~*

"I would assume that he would be hiding down here," Giles whispered as him and Kelly trekked down the long corridor.

"And wherever he is, Zack and Spike aren't far behind," Kelly added.

Xander tailed at the end to make sure that Kelly, who adamantly insisted on coming, was thoroughly protected. "What are the chances that this is any different than the fifteen we've already searched?" He said as swung his crossbow at his side to his shoulder.

"Process of elimination," the Watcher drawled. "After searching this one, we'll have about two thousand more to go."

"Let's get out of here," Xander said turning around.

"No!" Kelly harshly whispered. "There's something down here. I can feel it."

"As can I," Giles replied as they were approaching an intersection in the hallway. "Kelly and I will take the right. Xander cover left."

With that they jumped into the open area where both Watcher and woman's swords came within millimeters of penetrating their intendeds' chests. When they noticed wooden stakes pressed to their own, they recognized the party.

"Giles? Kelly?" Buffy said skeptically as her and Lorne brought their stakes to their sides. She patted her Watcher's chest to make sure she did not cause any damage. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Same thing you are," Xander said walking over and bypassing greetings. "Trying to stop your husbands from committing first-degree murder."

"Wow there, Skittles," Lorne said as he looked at Kelly who was now swinging her sword back and forth, "I didn't know the Hellmouth had turned you into quite the little fighter. You almost chopped me in two."

"You almost gave me quite a splinter yourself," She said with a smile.

"Are you OK?" Buffy said walking over to her to put a hand on her arm.

"Yeah." She looked her friend in the eye. "We need to find them. They don't need this and I don't know if I do either."

"Let's go."


	22. Chapter 22

Donna was paranoid beyond compare as she watched the now awake Rosie. She had to give the child credit for her exceeding passive behavior. Donna could not imagine how unstable she would be if she witnessed the things that this child had already encountered in her short few years of life. She took a simple minute to bask in the awe that she had for the truly remarkable and gifted girl.

"Can we play with Barbies?" Rosie questioned as she scampered off the bed to grab her backpack of assorted games and toys. "Daddy only plays with me when Uncle Spike isn't here. Mommy says he's cute. Do you like Barbies?"

"Sure," Donna said walking over to her bed and straightening the covers before climbing on. She pulled the child up and unfastened the bag.

"I'm the girls," she said matter-of-factly. "Except Momma plays this one sometimes," she said laying out a brown haired doll. "Daddy plays the boys, but sometimes he plays Skipper too. You wanna be Skipper?"

Donna had to giggle at the thought of Zack lying on his stomach while acting out some little skit with Skipper and Ken in his hands. Though amusing, it was also heart-warming that he would spend so much time tending to his daughter's feminine needs. More and more she pictured a certain man she knew and the likelihood that he too would succumb one day to Skipper and Ken if her hearts desire came true.

Ten minutes went by before a knock was heard at the door. Donna's hesitation to answer was enough invitation for the person on the other side to acquire before stepping.

"What are you doing here?" Donna gasped in horror as she snatched Rosie and ran to the other side of the room.

"Oh, Miss Moss, I'm afraid that I did not expect to find you in the child's company. I was merely planning on encountering the young Rose by herself."

She eyed the monster in front of her cautiously before pushing Rosie behind her. "Well, sorry. Come back later," she snapped.

"No," he stated with a shake of his head. "I will just have to alter plans a bit. Though I must say, this could work out even more to our advantage."

The struggle that took place next would be obvious when others entered the room hours later.

*~*~*

It took almost a half hour to walk over to the corridor where the vampires had set up camp. Both Zack and Spike were secretly delighted with Clarice's decision to help because it would have been months before they started their assault on this wing of the castle.

"How much longer?" Zack asked as his patience slowly grew thin.

"We're almost there," Clarice snapped. "Just at the end of this hall."

"Hurry up, will ya?" Spike growled. "The Slayer's on her way. I feel she's right by."

"Here," she said pointing at a large wooden door that resembled all the  
other large wooden doors that they had thus encountered.

"You mean 'Tada! We're here'?"

"Eureka," Clarice said before turning and walking off.

"Hold it," Spike said grabbing her arm and dragging her back. "Where you off  
to so fast? I don’t think so. I may not be the brightest crayon in the box,  
but I've lived long enough to see telling signs of set-up."

"I don't want to see him," She shamefully admitted. "I know he's in there fucking her right now."

Spike sniffed before wrinkling his nose. "The scent was hard to track, but now I’m getting' it more'n I wanted. Definite musk of Peaches in there."

"Yeah, so excuse me if I'm not all keen of the watching. I've seen more than my share already."

"You're still staying," Zack said grabbing her other arm. "At least until we're sure what's behind that door."

"And now we find out," Spike said kicking it in. The horror of what they saw next made before men release their grasp on a shocked Clarice, who proceeded to run off.

"Oh God," Zack flinched as he witnessed three naked vampires and a naked and blindfolded Slater strapped to the ceiling. The female vamps and human paid no attention to the new arrivals and the other naked male still lounged on the bed.

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his middle as the two walked in.

"What are you doing here?"

"Not having as much fun as you are?" Spike said with a cheeky grin. "Just came to take away the object of your lady's affection." He pointed to the trio.

"Oh God," Zack groaned as he glanced back with disgusted fascination much like driving past a car accident on a cliff.

"Oh Angelus," Slater groaned.

That was all it took for Spike and Zack to lose control of all their bitter anger momentarily and burst into hysterics. The look upon the face of the vampire named was only fuel to the fire.

"Oh William has come to play," Dru said walking over. "I knew my prince would come. But you've been naughty. Much punishment for you." She then looked to Zack. "But you brought me a nummy treat. That will make things better." She ran a hand down the blonde human's chest. "His friend tastes like death, but I see the sweet life he still entails."

"He's not your treat, Dru. And put some clothes on for Christ's sake," he stammered as he stepped back.

"How the hell did you get here?" Darla snapped before walking over and pulling on a robe.

"I want him, William before you get your fangs in him. I want him for treats and not for play."

Zack didn’t react to the crazed vampiress’s ramblings, instead walking over and ripping the blindfold off Slater.

"Ahh," he screamed.

"Don't worry," Zack said slicing the leather straps and casing the man to  
fall painfully to the ground. "I want to kill you when you have clothes on. Then go to therapy for seeing you with them off."

"I bet you do, Preppy," he said as he pulled a robe on. "I saw how you always watched me in the locker room."

"Did you not notice I was always scamming you too? Woah...did my undying attraction to Kelly not prove my sexuality enough."

"I saw you cross-dress."

"We've already been for a jaunt down High School Expressway. Can we get on with it?" Spike growled.

"Hey! That was my robe!" One naked person still clenched the twisted sheets at his waist.

"We'll deal with you in a minute," Spike said giving the vampire a look. "We know what you did. Got any last requests or confessions."

"Just that I had the courage to do what you chickened out on," Slater spat.

The next instant the man was against the wall. Everyone heard the bones crack with the impact but no one looked capable of stepping in. The growl that was heard from the doorway was the jock's only salvation.

Spike growled in return but lessened his hold immediately. He did not give the man chance of escape this time. "Why ding you just let me Buffy?" he asked without turning around.

"'Cause I don't think that's in our best interests. No matter how bad I want to."

"Good Lord," Giles said stepping over the threshold. "What was—"

"Don't ask," a voice in the corner answered.

"Angelus? Why are you naked?"

"Again...just don't ask."

Zack's eyes remained on Slater while every sense he had told him that his wife had just entered the room. Secret sparks of electricity shot through his spine as he felt her approach.

She gently grasped his hand and tugged him back toward the door slightly.

"Don't kill him."

"Why? Why shouldn't he pay for what he did?" He then turned his gaze toward Kelly's. "What he did to you?"

"Because," she said simply. "Death isn't always the solution."

"You haven' been reading my memoirs then have you, pet?"

"We're going to lock him up until we find out answers we need," Buffy clarified.

"What sodding answers do we need from him?" The Cockney said looking at his wife with disbelief. "Green read. We know what he did. What else do we need? A bleeding video tape?"

Slater snickered.

"You bloody bastard!" One man said running forward, sword in hand.

Buffy quickly ended the assault-in-progress. "Giles! You were the one that said we needed him for information on Wolfram and Hart."

Kelly clenched her head and sunk down on the bed. "Please. Let's just lock him up and find out the information when we calm down."

"Fine," Zack grumbled as he walked over to help her wife up. "Spike?"

"Got him, Zangy." He looked at Buffy. "Where we stashing the body?"

"On the lawn. We don‘t think it’s best if he’s in the house."

"Fine," he grumbled as he walked out the door. Zack and Kelly followed behind.

Darla and Dru walked out in disgust and the Watcher and Xander followed to make sure no deaths were committed.

When all was left were the former lovers, Buffy turned to him. "When did you get a soul back?" She was beyond mystified.

"You can see?" He asked in perplexity. "I didn't think anyone could if Darla didn't notice."

"How? When? How?"

"When Spike went human. Willow had more power than she thought. I went and talked to her and she admitted to it. I decided that in my redemption, I would help set things right."

"Well I have to say, it's nice having you back, but can you get some clothes please."

"Yeah," he almost blushed as he stumbled over and picked up his pants.

*~*~*

Spike did not release his grip on the man until all enchanted shackles were properly fitted. As the wind blew the chilling air in, no one stopped for a second to pay sympathy to the shivering brunette in a bathrobe.

"I think it’s going to rain," Slater whimpered as he looked up to the darkening sky. On cue, sprinkled began to sporadically drop upon the men’s bodies.

"’Nother reason why you should if kept your hands off the merchandise," Spike said without emotion as he tugged on the chains with all his strength for good measure. When satisfied, he patted Zack on the shoulder. "Time to head in I say. Need to get ready for tonight." He winked. "’Sides, it’s getting right nippy." 

"Agreed," Zack said flippantly as he ignored Slater’s whimpers and headed toward the castle.

As soon as they stepped inside Kelly stood at the door. She smiled meekly before trying to brush past them, but neither one was letting her through. "And where do you think you’re going, honey?" Zack said softly.

"I want…I need to talk to him, Zack."

"Look," Zack sighed. "Not now. I understand that you should, but right now he’s bitter and…the weather’s turning nasty."

"You’re afraid that he’s too far away," Kelly pointed out gently. "Zack, I’m not stupid. I know that you and Spike will be watching me the entire time that I’m out there to make sure he doesn’t hurt me. Worst he could do is kick me if I get too close."

"Don’t get that close," Zack warned slowly realizing that stopping her wouldn’t be so easy. "But…you need a coat. It’s getting colder and we don’t want to endanger the baby anymore that it already has been. He might be a fighter, but I don’t wanna test his limits."

"No. Zack I know you’re stalling. I’m going out here now." She was on the verge of tears. "I have to say a few things to him once and for all."

"Fine," Spike grumbled as reminded the couple of his presence. "Kel is not going give up so let it go, Zangy. That’s what a good little whipped boy’d do."

"Says you?" Zack said with an arched brow as he witnessed his friend remove his duster and wrap it around Kelly’s shoulders.

"Witty," The Cockney said dryly before turning to his female friend. "I wanna have that back, love."

"Thank you," she said giving him a hug and peck on the cheek before giving her husband a bit stronger embrace and kiss on the lips. "I love you," she whispered in his ear as they hugged once more.

"I love you too."

With that, she began her trek out the door and into the cold rain. She hugged herself tightly in the leather as she walked the 100 yards to the top of the hill where Slater was chained.

"Isn’t this priceless," he snarled. "Wanna lasting experience?"

"Why?" She asked as she wiped the soaked strands of hair out of her face. "What did I do that would deserve that?"

"Why did you choose him?" Slater glared. "What makes him so special?"

"Are we going back to high school? I’m way past that, Slater. I just want to know what I did? Did I send you a wrong message because I’m sorry but there wasn’t ever that much interest in you to begin with." She paused for a moment. "And I couldn’t even begin with the reasons that I married that man and why he’s so special. Look at that little girl in there," she pointed toward the castle. "She’s his living breathing testament of why he’s so wonderful." She wiped her rain and tear filled eyes. "And I know he’s always there for me. Even after I…I thought I did wrong, he defended me with his life."

"Too bad he wasn’t there to save you then."

Kelly let out a flabbergasted sob. "You…you’ve been more…cruel than ever. Why?" She unintentionally took a step forward as she studied him perplexedly.

"That’s what happens when you sell your soul, baby."

"Wolfram and Hart," she said measurably. "They brought you back to life. That’s what it was. Forget the past. I’ll never understand why you did that. They say it’s not about sex but power. With you, I don’t know. Maybe envy. You envied Zack for what he had." She stepped closer. "What he has. What you don’t. But…why did they bring you back? They had a plan and if you tell it…I might be able to help you."

They both knew it was a lie. Though Slater had to give her a bit of credit, he was able to see through her façade. "Number one: soulless. Number two: they pay better than you ever could."

Kelly batted her hair from her eyes as the wind picked up once more. She sucked in a sharp intake of air before she spat, "Bastard."

"But you were going to go with me to Hawaii," Slater whined going back to the past.

Kelly’s brows for a moment until she realized his mind was back in high school. "I thought you were dying. Another silly ploy my husband came up with. And if it should escape your attention, I would have said that for a dying puppy. Besides, I do two things quite often: cry at everything and sappily try to do every good deed possible." Her eyes darkened as she stepped face to face with her raped. "But Miss Kelly Goody Heart went out for a walk…bitch." She wiped the rain off her face. "This woman is pissed. Pissed with what you’ve done to me. That night and every night and day since. I’m pissed with what you did to my husband and what you’ve done to my children. I’m pissed about what you’ve done to my family. Spike and Buffy suffered because of what you’ve done. Pissed about the pain my friends are going through because you helped in trapping us hear. And lastly…I’m just…" she choked on her words as emotion caught up with her. "I just wanna go home you asshole." She kicked him with all her might in the shin causing him to yelp in pain. "Give me…give me one good reason why they shouldn’t kill you. Just say you’re sorry." 

"All I’m sorry about is that you weren’t awake when I did it. That would have been priceless." He kicked with his good leg and made contact with her kneecap enough to knock her on her behind. "Maybe with little Rosie watching next time. She’s seen vampires rise, I think she should witness the whore her sweet innocent mommy is." 

Kelly saw Zack and Spike running toward her. She shook her head and held up a hand in halt. Neither one did as they both were at her side in seconds helping her to her feet. "Don’t touch him," Kelly said eyes as cold as ice. "Let him sit out here and suffer a bit longer before his death."

"Guessing you changed your mind?" Zack said wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

She stepped closer to the constrained jock but remained mindfully out of reach. "You can threaten me till the end of time, but you don’t bring my daughter into this. You crossed a line. You can…rape me, but you mention my daughter once and mercy is gone. I was the one who was going to save your ass." She turned toward the castle and walked a few steps before turning back one final time. "Now I’m feeding you to the dogs." 

*~*~*

"Thanks," Kelly replied when they were all in the dry warm house once more. She pulled off the duster and handed it to Spike. 

"No problem little lady," Spike said doing a bad John Wayne impression before giving her a smile. 

"Are you sure you’re fine?" Zack asked for the millionth time. 

"I think I might’ve twisted my wrist," a mocking vampire replied with a pout. 

"I’m fine," she comforted as she tempered her husband’s dirty look to one giddy looking Brit. "I just hope the rain stops before you head off to the woods." 

"The forest should give good cover either way," Zack pointed out. "But you better be getting on with your S&M thing." 

"Just hope you don’t get to much trouble riled up in my absence, Morris." 

"You know I can’t do it nearly as well without you," he retorted with a playful grin. 

"C’mon boys," Kelly chided unable to keep a smile from her lips. "Say your goodnights and go on. Zack, you can go out and play again tomorrow." 

"Night, Kel," Spike chuckled before kissing her temple. "I’ll give the Slayer the bedtime wishes." Then he paused. "Rosie." 

"Don’t worry," Zack reassured. "She’s lived without a goodnight from you before and she’ll know that you’ll both be back. Just go and have fun. Hope miracles happen and you two become perfect equals and all that jazz." 

"Fine," Spike conceded before saying farewell and heading off toward the Slayer as the couple went toward their room. 

"So Donna’s with her?" Kelly asked. 

"Yup," Zack said with a single nod. He shyly slipped his hand into hers as they walked on. 

"Zack?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could we stop by the kitchen? I could really use something to eat." 

"Sure baby. Anything you want. If you want, I can make you a peanut butter sandwich. No bread and no jelly just like you like it." 

"I love you, Zack Morris," She replied with admiration. 

*~*~*

The couple took half an hour with dinner before heading to their room. Zack had chopped up some mangos and pineapple for his little girl as a snack before getting her ready for bed. Both Zack and Kelly decided as they walked and snuck a couple pieces of fruit, that serious Barbie time was in store. 

"Did she bring Skipper?" Zack whispered. 

His wife giggled. "Yes. I knew that she was the only girl you felt comfortable with so both of us made sure she was brought." 

"And Ken?" 

"Of course," Kelly said rolling her eyes playfully. 

"Excellent." 

But the next seconds were anything but. When the door was opened, they discovered their room in complete shambles. Toys and various items were strewn askew and a Skipper doll lay at Zack’s feet. "Rosie," they said in unified horror. 

*~*~* 

Spike rolled his eyes. "You’ve gotta be bloody kidding me." 

The Slayer just grinned and shook her head. They walked purposefully passed Slater, arms linked in that coupley way that was too nauseating to actually endure, ignoring the inane snickers that rumbled through their hostage’s mouth. Though she would never let him know it, Buffy was more than intrigued about her husband’s slightly giddy attitude concerning that evening’s festivities. Even with everything had gone wrong as of the recent; he knew just what to do to take her mind off…certain unpleasantries. 

"Nope. Willow made Angel all…Angel again. Apparently with the you-becoming-human thing…" She paused thoughtfully. "And here I thought she was kidding." 

"Huh?" 

"I went to Willow after we found out that you were pulse-having…" The thought made her uncomfortable—events still a bit too fresh in her mind. Immediately, Spike’s grip on her hand tightened and he favored her with an affectionate smile. "And she said jokingly…I hope it was jokingly…that she could always give Angel a permanent soul and—" 

"Okay, sod the guilt," Spike snarled possessively. "Red’s one dead Witch." 

Buffy grinned in spite of herself and snuggled more attentively into his embrace. "If it makes you feel any better," she said. "I threatened to rip out her ribcage and wear it as a hat if she was even remotely serious." 

"Did you really?" 

"She knew I wouldn’t." A sigh touched the air. "Spike, you have nothing to—" 

"Worry about. Yeah. Got that memo." Spike stopped sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "I just…knowing what you and Peaches had…it gets me sometimes. Thinking—" 

"—that what you and I have right now makes me forget I was ever with Angel?" 

His brows perked. "What?" 

"Spike, you’re the most infuriatingly adorable man on the face of the planet." 

"Hey! I sodding resent that. I am by no means ador—" 

"And I love you like there is no tomorrow. Well, technically speaking, there might not be a tomorrow, but…" She stopped when his expression hazed over in that halfway-irritated, halfway-astonished look he adapted whenever she proclaimed her feelings verbally. "Angel was my first…yeah…and no amount of wishing will make it otherwise…" She leaned into him coyly and ran a finger from his throat to the waistband of his trousers. "From either end." 

Spike just stared at her. 

Then grinned. 

"You wish the Big Bad had deflowered you?" 

"Well…" 

Buffy was suddenly assaulted by five feet ten inches of an intensely aroused vampire. Out in the open, there was nothing to press her against, thus he lost all pretense and hauled her into his arms, mouth ravaging hers for all it was worth as his lower half came to instant life. Were it not for previous arrangements, he likely would have taken her there on the lawn. Slater’s prying eyes and all. 

When they finally pulled apart, both had to remember not to breathe. 

"You’re really surprised?" Buffy asked, leaning her forehead against his. "Angel meant something to me, sure…and I’m glad he’s back. He’s a good friend…but…" Her eyes leveled with his. "You’re the one, Spike. Always have been. Just took me years of stupidity to see it." 

Her words had him on the verge of tears like a wanker, but he didn’t care. "God, I love you." 

"Love you more." 

"Do not." 

"Wanna bet?" 

"That’s it, woman!" He dropped her unceremoniously. "You’re going down!" 

"Maybe later," she retorted with a smug grin, fighting to her feet without breaking eye contact. "In the meantime…don’t you have some mastership thingy to be challenging?" 

Mastership thingy. God, she bloody mutilated the entire coven on which vampires stood. 

And he didn’t care a lick. 

He was irrefutably whipped. Whipped with a capital W. 

There were worst things to be. Spike eyed her hungrily. Oh yeah. Definitely worst things to be. 

Where was he? Oh right. Business. 

"Right. First of all…" Spike nodded at her seemingly empty hands, knowing well simply because Buffy never went anywhere without the necessary precautions. "What’re you packing?" 

Buffy shrugged and allowed her usual artillery—two stakes—to slide out of her sleeves and drop haphazardly to the ground. "Just the usual. Why?" 

"Leave ‘em here." 

"Spike, we’re about to go into a notoriously dangerous forest, and—" 

"—you’re a vampire," he reminded her softly. "Lesson the second: you already got your weapon, love. And this…" He melted into game face, gesturing to himself demonstratively. "Is all the weapon you’ll ever need. You got everything else. The speed, the cunning, the strength…everything to scare any worthy opponent." 

Buffy smiled. "Whatever happened to your affinity for weapons, Spike? Now you’re the one who doesn’t practice what he preaches." 

"My reasoning remains the same as ever. I don’t need ‘em. I just like ‘em." He grinned and reiterated the very same action that had sealed their introduction all those years ago, running his hand suggestively down his middle and coming to rest at the waistband of his jeans. "They make me feel all manly." Then he was serious again. "The difference is, I’m comfy as can be without ‘em. You’re not. You’re always needing to improvise. And yeah, as the Slayer, that’s expected. It’s what you required to survive: hell, I told you that. You didn’t have a nice pair of sharp fangs at your disposal then. Well Sweetheart, you do now." He tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned forward to nearly chastely kiss her lips. "So let’s see ‘em." 

There was a minute of consideration before Buffy complied. Spike merely grinned at her. He loved her demon persona. Sometimes, he reckoned he had never seen anything more beautiful. 

"Lesson the third," he continued, slightly choked. "As the Slayer, you were always taught to channel the darker part of you. To push it aside and bloody well ignore it because it was wrong, and all that rot. We’re all from the same mold, kitten. Demons and Slayers alike. The PTB made us what we are…and we’re all essentially working for the same cause. For the balance. Your job as the Slayer was to make sure the balance was kept. Your job as a vampire is to disrupt that balance as much as bloody possible." He held up a hand when he saw her begin to protest. "Now, now. I don’t expect you to go muck-having and making life for the new Chosen Bird a living hell. That’s not in the innate Buffy Summers wiring, and we couldn’t have that, could we? The real secret is finding a medium between what’s good for you as a person…and what’ll satisfy your demon. You’ve had the wiring for this all along, kitten. Now you’re just playing on the other side. Where before you were encouraged to hold back, now you gotta…let go." 

Buffy frowned. "All right…what…?" 

Spike crossed his arms and regarded her sharply. "Why do vampires hunt, love?" 

The answer that came immediately to mind was one that had beaten into her conscious from the first day of accepting her calling. It was instinctive and while most of her believed it, there was a small voice that screamed, ‘Always something more!’ against the cold front of mindless understanding. And while she inwardly berated herself for her lack of insight, the look on Spike’s face clearly betrayed the acceptance that he anticipated the worst form of answer. "To feed," she answered. "To kill. To cause chaos." 

He smiled softly at her misplacement. "Yeah," he agreed. "That’s part of it, love. I won’t lie to you. But, despite how your Watcher might’ve liked to muck up the truth, there’s a lot more. It’s the hunt we need, you see? Doesn’t matter if we’re chasing a pulser or a creature of the night, which was why I took to killing my own kind as right naturally as I did when the Initiative prats shoved the chip into my cranium. As long as it puts in a good chase, the demon’s always satisfied with the outcome. The difference being the taste. Pig’s blood can be rich as you make it to be, pet. But bagging it? it’s against your nature. You just don’t know the difference ‘cause you’ve never really been a vampire." He held up a hand at her predictable protest. "Not even Porphy, Sweets. Yeah, she nibbled on the populace a bit, but that was two bloody weeks. Two weeks! Nothing in the greater scheme of things. Which is why your first trial is gonna be to let loose an accept what the monster inside you wants…what it always wants…" 

For a minute, she swore her heart was pounding again. The look he delivered went right through her and shook her to her very core. "What’s that?" 

The next few seconds were filled with remembrance. A lifetime ago, Spike had taught her how to be a Slayer. Taught her with more words and action than Giles could ever hope. In turn, she had resorted to attacking his fears when he broached the darkness she had not been ready to accept. The innate truth that all Slayers have a death wish. Her own had led her through trial and error where she was now. Standing here with a creature she should not want—but did. Someone she should not love—but did. Someone who, against all his inner workings, should not love her back. 

But did. 

And now he wanted her to accept her darkness. Moreover, he wanted her to understand that there was nothing wrong with it. Slayers and vampires were all spurned from the same dust—one born of light, the other of dark. The nature was there whether she wanted it or not. Accepting nature did not make her evil. It made her simply that—herself. 

She had asked for this. And she knew it meant a lot to him. It meant the world to him. 

Thus she did not betray any emotion other than a slight shiver when he leaned inward and whispered against her ear, "One. Good. Day." 

Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut. Briefly. "What do you want me to do?" 

Spike smiled and waited until he had her gaze once more before answering. "I want you," he murmured, "to go hunting." 

With that, a timely squeal sounded through the air and a full-grown pig raced by them. Buffy gasped when she noted the predatory swirl in her husband’s eyes, and knew immediately what he was expecting. 

She jumped back as though burned. "You want me to kill the piggy?" 

"Close enough. I want you to eat the piggy." 

"Gross! No!" 

"Don’t think of it as a piggy. Think of it as supper. A nummy treat." 

Her eyes narrowed. "Sorry. There is a Piggy-Factor here. I can’t eat the piggy." 

"Buffy…" He shook his head. "That’s the very same pig that was gonna be bled for our supper tonight. It’s not like you weren’t gonna taste it, anyway." 

"So let it be bled!" she barked. "It’s…you want me to…with my…that’s gross, Spike." Buffy waved her hand airily and stepped back with disgust. "Ew!" 

"’S what you are," he said softly. "You wanted this, Buffy. You wanted me to show you what you are. The demon always wants the hunt. Always. And yeah—pig’s blood isn’t exactly the nummiest treat on the planet, but it’s a whole hella lot better to take it this way than have it bloody spoon-fed to you. Vamps weren’t made for that, and neither are you. They need the exhilaration. The sweat. The speed. They need to know that they’ve earned what they’re taking. Now, if you wanna back out, that’s understandable. But that doesn’t change what you are. What your demon’s always gonna want. What it needs…right now." 

Buffy sighed deeply and forced herself to meet his eyes. There was no backing out. She knew if she resigned herself once more to kidding her bloodline that she was human, things would never be the same between them. He would always love her, of course, but he wanted her to understand. He needed her to understand. Rejecting her nature would be akin to rejecting him, because it was his nature, too. 

"What about…" she began foggily. "What about the…mastership thing? I thought that’s what we were gonna do out here." 

"Oh, we are, love. But challenging your mastership’s not something that I can just walk up and do." He stepped forward dangerously. "And about that…you gotta know exactly what it is that you’re getting yourself into, Buffy. When I challenge you, it won’t be gentle and pretty. It won’t be bloody wine and roses. There’s no nice way to reverse or even a mastership…and it has nothing to do with love. Not between our demons. There’s gonna be snarling and blood and you’re gonna have to fight me back. For all intents and purposes, when you sired me, I became a lowly fledging again. For a fledging to challenge the rights a sire holds is dangerous, powerful business. Angelus challenged Darla once and she fought him. Nearly bloody killed ‘em both. But they became that they needed to become: equals. They were equals. I never challenged Dru ‘cause I always felt somehow that I was beneath her." He inhaled sharply and took a lock of hair between his fingers. "I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. But for this to go down with any measure of success, there has to be violence. That’s what we are. That’s what we bloody well live off of. My demon challenging your demon…not me challenging you, understand? This is beyond us. This is…this is us. You get me? So you can’t hold back. In order for me to claim rights, I gotta defeat you in a fair brawl." 

"Spike—" 

"And I can. You might be the Slayer-turned-vamp facing off her childe, but where it counts, pet, I got the stones. I’m a century and a half old. I can bloody well fend." He closed his eyes painfully. "But Buffy, if you don’t wanna do this…if you don’t wanna…you gotta tell me. And I will understand. I will. But you gotta give me the heads up right now. ‘Cause once it starts, neither one of us will be able to finish until it’s over. And I can’t have you holding back on me, love. The Powers won’t take this seriously unless you try to defend your right as master." 

"Will…" Buffy emanated a sharp breath. "Will I try to kill you?" 

He sighed. He couldn’t lie to her. "You might." 

"SPIKE!" 

"But you won’t…kill me, that is." 

"How can you know?" 

"I just do." A small grin settled across his lips. "if you do, it’s ‘cause you recognize me as a threat. Since we’re mated, you’ll stop." 

"You’re not just saying that?" 

"I wouldn’t…Buffy, I’d never do anything that’d make it so I’d leave you forever." He kissed the back of her hand to relax her. "I’m not like the others. Not like your formers. ‘d never walk away from you if I had any say in the matter, and even then, it’d take a bloody apocalypse to keep me away." 

The Slayer’s eyes clouded with tears, and she tenderly cupped his cheek. "I don’t want to hurt you," she whispered. 

His gaze twinkled. "Never had a problem with it before." 

The statement was made in jest, but she knew him too well to miss the telling flicker of resentment that inherently battled across his visage when any mention of their violent past was made. Therefore, she leaned inward and caressed his lips softly with her own. "Things are different now," she said seriously. 

A beat stretched infinitely between them. 

"I know." 

"What about…is it a good idea to try this with what happened?" She didn’t want to bring up the recent monstrosity as means to get out whatever he had planned, but there were necessary precautions to be made. "I mean, the last time you described something as ‘bloody’ and ‘snarling’, I had to tackle you before you killed yourself." 

"This is different," he assured her. "What happened before was my demon reacting to a challenge to my claim of yours. I had no control over that. This…it’s gonna be a lot different, love. ‘Cause doing it means my demon wants a part of yours that no one else will ever be able to touch." 

Claiming. Siring. Equality. Their final step. 

More companionable silence as the woods came to life around them. Night was just falling, and it was nearing time to begin. "So, what’s it gonna be, love? Yes or no? Are you in…or out?" His forehead rested peacefully against hers. "And really…if you want out…I’ll understand." 

"What will it mean…to you? What will it mean to you if we go through with this?" 

A small shiver raced down his spine at the mere thought. "Beauty," he choked. "Death. Life. Love. Trust…equality." 

All things that were essentially important to him. How could she deny him what he craved when he had already given her everything? 

"All right." 

His eyes widened. The concession was nearly as pivotal as her first proclamation of love. As potent to the sensationalism of her fangs first slipping into his neck to claim him as her mate. As her forever. This was it. The last. After it was over, there was no limit to what they could accomplish together. 

But he had to let her one more chance to back out. It was only fair. 

"Are you sure?" 

Buffy smiled gently. "I’m sure." 

"I don’t wanna hurt—" 

"And you won’t." 

"I’m not gonna go easy on you, kitten." 

"And I won’t on you." 

A predatory grin crossed his lips. "Then toddle on off and get yourself fed, Slayer. Want you at full strength. You’re about to know what fighting the Big Bad’s all about." 

Something icy and cold pressed against her mouth but was gone before she could reciprocate, or even realize that she had been kissed. "I love you," he said gruffly. Then it was over. It was time. Spike had disappeared, and the challenge had begun. 

*~*~*

"GILES!" 

The Watcher did not even bother to suppress the groan that rumbled instinctually from his throat as Kelly and Zack bombarded the library. He was beginning to wonder if he should move all projects to the safety of his room—at least that door had a lock. 

No, he reflected a minute later. Then everyone would pound on the door until I opened it. 

"Yes? What is it?" When he finally glanced up and read the look mirrored on the Morrises faces, all signs of hostility dropped with impact. "Good Lord, what happened?" 

"It’s Rosie!" Kelly sobbed, holding onto Zack’s shoulder for dear life. She knew she couldn’t trust her legs to carry her. "Something…something horrible has happened to Rosie." 

That did it. Someone harming his little girl? Giles was already seeing red. 

"What?" he demanded, leaping out of his chair. "What ha—" 

"We don’t know." For a minute, the Watcher couldn’t tell if Zack’s expression betrayed more pain than Kelly’s. While he wasn’t sobbing, there was no emotion on his face. As though his soul had been ripped from his body, and all will to live was gone forever. He had never seen the man look so empty. So hollow. As though all his reason was gone. And for whatever cause, the thought alone merited more pain than any amount of weeping could begin to suggest. "We went to the room," he said in a dry, near-Oz-like monotone, "and she was gone. She was gone." He glanced upward again with dead eyes. "My little girl was gone." 

"The room…a mess…" Kelly was trying to find words, but her sobs were too much for her. In an instant, she had projected herself into her surrogate father’s embrace, burying her face in his shirt. "There was a struggle. Someone went in there and took her. They took her away from us!" 

"Angelus," Zack said. 

"No. Angelus is no longer Angelus." Giles shook his head and absently caressed Kelly’s back. "Apparently, Willow restored him during the entire William fiasco. He was playing double-agent for us." 

"Then Darla and Dru. We took away their toy, Giles." 

The Watcher glanced downward at that. He wished he could reaffirm their worries, but he knew well what the vampiresses were capable of. They were, after all, called from The Order of Aurelius. The most prestigious line of vampires to walk the earth. Oh yes. They were capable of murdering an innocent girl. They were capable of anything. 

Just like he was capable of making sure they died a horrible, slow, painful death. Right now, the prospect of slowly dipping them both in holy water while brandishing crosses all over their bodies seemed to be the best bet. 

"Where is Spike?" he asked softly. "He’ll want to know about this." 

"No," Zack said sharply. "This isn’t about Spike. That’s my daughter." 

Kelly glanced upward, perplexed. "Zack, he could help us…you know how much he loves Rosie." 

There really was no contesting that. 

"I know," he conceded a minute later. "I know he does. And yeah…he’d help us…but do you want to go out and brave the woods? I’m not exactly itching to see what he and Buffy are doing. And from the sound of it, from he told me, if we interfere, we’ll likely make things worse." 

"The woods?" The Watcher asked, unsure if he wanted the answer. 

"Spike’s challenging her mastership." 

Giles’s eyes widened comically. "H-he’s…he’s challenging her…oh Lord. That is a very potent and sacred ritual. I’ve never heard of it succeeding without…but if anyone could make it happen, he could. He…yes, yes. No one is to go near the woods tonight. They might kill us if we intervene." 

"Even if it’s to help Rosie?" 

"I meant literally, Kelly. What they’re doing will channel their inner demons, and anyone who approaches will be seen as a threat." He held up a hand. "And before you ask, yes, it is much different than what happened recently. They have some measure of control…but only where each other are concerned. Good God, I never even thought that he would try to do this…" 

"Is it bad?" 

"No. Not for them. Not if they truly love each other." He shook his head. "But it is beside the point. Without Spike, we aren’t going to be able to track down the scent of Darla and Dru…or whoever it was that took Rosie away." 

"It had to be them," Zack said through gritted teeth. "There’s no one else." 

"Would Clarice help us?" Kelly asked numbly. "You said she helped you locate Slater." 

"She did. But that was only because she wanted to get back at Angelus." 

"Well, I have a stake," Giles offered. "I’m sure that can be used to…persuade her." 

Just then, the library doors burst open once more in way of a panicked Josh. 

"GILES!" 

The Watcher rolled his eyes. "What now?" 

"It’s Donna! I can’t find her anywhere. She was supposed to be watching…" His eyes traveled to the other occupants of the library and widened a bit when he took in their trauma-laced gazes. "What happened?" he demanded lowly. "Where is she?!" 

"We don’t know," Zack said emotionlessly. "We went to our room and she and Rosie were gone." 

"What do you mean gone?!" he shouted erratically, voice reaching all new levels of shrill. 

Zack’s eyes narrowed. "You know that thing where someone isn’t there? Yeah. She was that. G-O-N-E." 

"We think it’s Darla," Kelly offered weakly. "We think she and Drusilla took Rosie and…and likely whoever was with her to get back at us for taking Slater away from them." 

"So you did this." 

"What?!" 

Josh’s gaze darkened. "If something happens to Donna, I’ll kill you both." 

"Oh, there’s a threat!" Zack spat bitterly. "What do you think, Kel? We’ve faced cannibals, evil lawyers, demons, vampires, werewolves, wizards, and nearly been torn apart by our own avarice. Yep. I think the politician might be the one to do us in completely." 

"I’m lawyer, too," Josh retorted meekly, the color draining from his face. The realism of the situation was beginning to sink in, and his argument had all about taken a curtain call at last. 

"This bickering is pointless," Giles snapped. "Come to your senses, the both of you! Josh, Zack and Kelly are not to be blamed for what happened to Donna. Please keep in mind that they have lost their daughter. Zack, keep in mind that finding Donna is just as important to Josh as finding Rosie is to you." He sighed. "And to think, this was supposed to be my vacation." 

"What about Spike?" Josh asked suddenly. "He’s a vampire. He’d—" 

"No," everyone replied mutedly. 

"Clarice is likely our best bet," Giles decided. "She’ll cooperate." 

"How do you know?" Zack said, hard façade finally falling. 

The old man hardened as a flash of the old Ripper came into view. It was something he usually attempted to wan from existence but now found essential. "I’ll make her cooperate." 

Suddenly, Anya rushed into the library. "GILES!" 

"What now?!" 

"It’s Xander! He refuses to give me orgasms, even though he and that vile woman he is unfortunately tied to through the laws of matrimony have agreed to not copulate anymore. Giles, make him give me orgasms!" 

Everyone stared at her blanky, then one-by-one filed out. 

The vengeance-demon blinked simply. "Was it something I said?" 

*~*~*

_Don’t think of Piglet,_ she warned herself. _This is not Piglet. This is a stinky, disgusting animal, and I want it for its blood. Don’t think of Piglet. Piglet’s a cute cartoon. Piglet doesn’t smell. Piglet is Winnie’s little friend. This is not Piglet. He could be Wilbur, but he’s not Piglet. Bah!_

From her hindsight, she watched the pig snort and bed itself into an earth covered with leaves. 

_He sure looks like Wilbur…stop comparing your dinner to fictitious cartoon pigs!_

The swine snorted. And she could hear its pulse singing through the soundless forest. 

And she was hungry. 

A very bad thought shimmied up her spine.

_Are yah aching?_

_Oh God…_

_For some bacon?!_

_No no._

_He’s a big pig._

_Stop it!_

_You can be a big pig, too!_

"Oi!" Buffy snapped loudly without realizing it, startling the pig to its feet with the realization that it was no longer alone. 

_Great, now you’ve gone and done it. So much for a surprise attack. I’m so burning every cartoon movie with pigs in it when we get home…_

The pig snorted as its beady eyes scanned the night fallen forest in search of the creature that had perturbed its rest. Buffy knew it looked directly at her more than once, but she had resolved to such schooled stillness that it somehow managed to miss her completely. Then she remembered her vampiric thrall—the way she had mechanics about her to melt completely into the scenery, especially when scenery was covered in shadows. 

But that didn’t mean it couldn’t smell her. 

_Rosie will never forgive me if I off Piglet._

The more rational side of her brain snickered at her. Rosie’s grown up with this stuff. She’d probably wait in line to do it herself. 

The Slayer’s tongue caressed the underside of her fang. She was starving. She knew she was starving. Spike had forbidden her to eat anything before she came out here with him. And sure, while she hadn’t exactly expected a candlelit picnic, she had suspected that he brought provisions. 

_Well, Buff, he did. You’re looking right at it. Your man’d never let you go hungry._

The demon inside raged eagerly. Time for a little…death. 

Buffy grinned. "Here, piggy piggy piggy…" 

A hungry roar rumbled through her throat as her prey squealed to attention. Oh yeah. This was definitely going to work up an appetite. 

No more Miss Nice Vamp. 

It was suppertime. 

*~*~*

"CLARICE! Open up! We know you’re in there!" 

Giles, Zack, Kelly, Josh, and a very reluctant Anya were all situated outside Clarice’s bedchamber, relentlessly pounding on the door. They had been trying to lure her out for the better of twenty minutes, egged on only by the sounds of disgruntled rumbling on the other side. 

Finally when Giles was resolved to simply break the door down, a very discontented vampire opened the door and leaned wearily against the frame. "What do you want?" she snapped. 

"Donna’s missing," Josh said before anyone else could get a word in. 

The brunette demon arched a brow at him. 

"Moreover," Giles clarified, "Rosie has gone missing as well. We believe that Darla and Drusilla might be involved." 

"…And?" 

"And," Zack said through gritted teeth. "You’re going to help us find them." 

"I already showed you where they were living, didn’t I?" 

"It’s been abandoned, and you know it," Giles snapped. "They wouldn’t be daft enough to remain in the same place after being discovered." 

There really was no contesting that. Clarice considered wearily, then shrugged. "Okay. So? What do you want me to do about it?" 

"You’re going to lead us to them." 

"Like hell I am!" 

"The scent is still fresh enough to follow," Kelly pleaded. "Please, Clarice…please? She’s your cousin, too. She’s your flesh and blood." 

At that, the vampiress licked her lips speculatively. "Oh yeah. She’s blood all right." 

Zack snarled and boldly invaded her personal space without an ounce of fear. "You’re going to help us," he insisted. 

"Dream on, blondie. I only helped you before because of Angel. You got your precious Slater, and I kept my end of the bargain. If the little tyke becomes dinner, that is not my fault." She shook her head disbelievingly. "Besides, you two already have your pet vamps. What, did Billy Idol suddenly realize that he’s a vampire and aligning himself with humans is something of the pathetic? What about the Slayer who doesn’t slay? Don’t tell me she lost that precious little soul of hers. That must be traumatizing. If she needs me to help her out, I can. I know how hard it is to get adjusted to a new song when the old one revolves solely around ‘Save the poor unfortunate souls.’" 

That was it. Before anyone else could react, Zack had seized the stake from Giles’s grasp and pinned his cousin against the hallway wall, placing the elongated splinter directly over her heart. "You’re going to help us," he said coldly. "’Cause if you don’t, the only thing you’ll be singing is Another One Bites The Dust, you got me?" 

"You wouldn’t." 

"Oh, I would." 

"I’m your cousin!" 

"How interesting. Does it look like I give a shit? She’s my daughter. I happen to love her. You, I can’t stand. Flesh and blood be fucking damned. So tell me, Starling…" He added some pressure behind the stake, causing it to dig slow centimeters into her skin. Clarice’s head flew back and she howled in pain. "What’s it going to be?" 

A few relentless seconds passed as the former FBI agent remembered that panting was not a prerequisite for living. "All right!" she agreed. "All right! I’ll help you." 

*~*~*

Okay, weird. 

And a little gross. 

But mmm…that was tasty. 

Buffy vaguely registered that the sun had set completely and she was surrounded in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. She blinked, waning away the instinctive sleep that overwhelmed her after eating a large meal. Behind her, the dead swine lay in motionless glory. She refused to turn around and look at it. The reality of her actions had yet to settle in, but she begrudgingly had to concede that the essence of pig had never tasted as rich before. Laced with the additive flavoring of exhilaration. She had listened to its heart slow to a stop as she fed. She had liked it. She had… 

Rewind. She had liked it. 

She had liked it a lot. 

_Can we say eww?_

Again, the rational side of her brain stepped in. _Yes. Just as easily as we can say tastified. You know you liked it, Buffy. You just don’t want to admit that a certain lickable peroxide honey was right._

Hunting and killing that pig had enriched the blood to near catastrophic proportions. While Buffy had a vague recollection of the taste, it was like stepping into a marathon of déjà vu. Forever had passed since she killed her last human for the sake of food. Forever had passed since she chased down her intended through trial and error. True, she had tasted human blood recently. She had tasted William…and while it was the most delectable flavor she reckoned to be allowed, this almost rivaled its richness. 

Spike had been right. 

Again. 

_Damn him._

That still didn’t explain why she was sitting in the middle of the Forbidden Forest naked as the day was born. Buffy wasn’t sure why, but sometime during her munch-athon, she had suffered the impossible urge to remove all her clothing. And while she now made no move to conceal her nudity—seeing as the only other person wandering around the woods was Spike—it was somewhat disconcerting that she had obeyed that whim with such stringency. 

Buffy looked up sharply when a twig crunched against the earth. Her neon eyes flickered with meaningful dissent and she automatically hissed and scampered for the shrubs. A predator was nearing, and she needed to be on alert. 

A predator. 

The mark on her throat suddenly burned and a sharp pain attacked her gut. While excruciating, she somehow managed to ignore it. It nearly seemed natural. Justified. 

Something was about to happen. 

Another perk to vampirism…darkness provided no object. While she had been blessed with uncanny perception as the Slayer, Buffy had discovered over the past few years that her night sight was damn near scary at how much she could pick up. 

She saw him before she heard him, but that didn’t make his words any less provocative. 

"Sla-yer," the platinum intruder singsonged. She distantly noted that he was in the same state of undress, but for the minute, it didn’t seem to matter. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…" 

Tantalizing reiteration. She remembered well the last time he used that line on her. 

The night of their first fight. Long, long ago.

_Predator. Vampire. Childe._

_Threat._

Something innate rumbled through her, and she knew all cause was lost. 

It was time. 

Spike stopped at the pig carcass and inhaled appreciatively. "Got your supper, then," he teased the still air around him. "Don’t rightly know when your inhibitions became the type that don’t last too long, but I gotta say, I’m pleased, love." She watched him scan the terrain, using her own vampiric-mojo to remain stealthily secluded. "I know you’re there, Buffy! I can smell you. Feel you." He emphasized the last by running a hand down his bare middle again. She refused to allow her eyes to follow. "Time to come out. Come out, Kitty. We’re gonna dance." 

There was a low growling in the back of her throat—subhuman but as natural as anything she had ever felt before. 

Powerful. 

Oh yeah. 

Spike stopped in his tracks when he felt her move, a frown cascading his face as his eyes blindly attempted to follow. Vampires tracking down other vampires that didn’t particularly want to be seen was a hard gig to pull off, especially if said vampire was a sire. His sire. Yes, his animalesque night vision was, as always, working in his benefit…but the tiding of what was and wasn’t had dimmed. The forest offered nothing but itself, and empty, eerie silence. 

The platinum vampire’s brows perked. "Buffy?" 

Nothing. 

Nothing. 

It wasn’t often that Spike was taken by surprise, but he was hardly prepared for being suddenly assaulted by a nude lithe Slayer. The roar that tore from her vocals was brute and animalesque, successfully sending shivers down his spine. In his astonishment, Buffy was able to straddle his waist and pin his wrists to either side of his head. The look on her face was rapacious and she was snarling. He couldn’t help the immediate affect the sight had on his nether regions. 

Not that he would, regardless. 

After a few minutes of struggling, Spike’s head flew back with a long chuckle. "Oooohh," he purred suggestively. "Baby likes to play." 

Baby appeared to be in any mood besides playful. 

"Guess we could give something for Baby to play with." He arched his hips against hers so that his hardened flesh caressed her underside. 

That pissed Baby off. With a vicious roar, Buffy’s head reeled back and she lunged her fangs for his throat. However, the lapse in fortitude had allowed her childe to gather his bearings and realize that this could end far sooner than he intended with negative results, thus he used all leverage to throw her off him. The Slayer landed with an oof a few feet away, and both were at attention before any momentum could be gained on either side. 

When they turned to face each other again, all candor was gone. 

He was hard. 

She was wet. 

Let the games begin. 

For long minutes, nothing happened. They eyed each other with fierce precision, snarling and circling—wordlessly daring the other to make the first move. It was times like this that Spike’s notorious impatience became a hazardous trait. He, naturally, broke first, having the most to lose from a defeat. He charged at her, lunging instinctively for her throat. 

Buffy easy sidestepped him and grasped him by the scruff of the neck and slammed him into the nearest tree. "Too simple, William," she rasped in a voice that was hers but not. "Bit predictable, aren’t we?" 

Her childe fought wearily to his feet and pressed his hand against his nose to stop the new incursion of flowing blood. The words flowing from her mouth were familiar in a terribly dreadful sense, but he had no trouble placing them. As soon as realization hit, he was all but consigned to forfeit then and there. Of course—her demon was Porphyria. To call her forth meant giving the inner monster a nice good look outside her hindsight. While the demon was hampered and restrained, the words that she wielded had the potency to dig trenches. It was Buffy, all right. There was no doubting that. Every bit of her was Buffy. He knew that by looking in her eyes.

But Porphyria was there, too. 

His musings allowed him for a lapse, and the next thing he knew, the fiery little thunderbird had kicked him across a mossy terrain until he crashed into the nearest tree. Splinters flew and bark cracked, stirring sawdust around his bruising form. Buffy rushed after him instantly, snarling the entire time. When she had a clear view, she launched herself at him, tackling him back to the earth as her fangs sought out his throat. 

However, he was prepared this time. Spike surprised her with a headbut, prowling over her body until his chest was pressed against her back. His arm fit across her front, holding her prostrate with his elbow piqued nicely at her throat. It seemed she would not fight him at all, which served to heat his anger until he felt something sharp dig into the inner muscle of his arm. A long, agonized scream tore from his lips, and his lapse allowed his sire to flip him yet again until he was on his back. 

She growled gloweringly as she observed him. Rakish, desirable leers that took in every stretch of skin to grace his nude form. When she licked her lips, Spike moaned. He couldn’t help it. She looked like she wanted to gobble him right up. 

Then her hand was enclosing around his throat in a grip that would crush a lesser man. Spike’s eyes widened and he immediately went to enclose his own fist around her wrist. The leverage of strength wavered in his favor, and he twisted her arm until she screamed her pained frustration. 

Such gave him enough time to fight to his feet again. By now, his body was covered in naturalistic debris and his hair had gone wild. The Slayer looked equally displaced. A large, bloodied scar graced her left shoulder, beads of blackness intermingling with dirt. Vampires, by nature, were not supposed to bleed blackness, but he had never found the look particularly surprising on her. It was a trait of her sire, and seemed to fit her with equilibrium. 

"Presumptuous," her demon snarled at him. 

"You know you want it, baby," his replied in turn. 

Apparently, at that minute, she did. Buffy roared to life once more and ran for him. He met her in spades, fangs instinctively following her throat as his hands battled to wan her attacks. He managed to take her by surprise with another headbutt, maneuvering behind her once more and covering her mouth to pull with leverage and expose the claim mark to his leisure. 

And again, he fell victim to his presupposition. 

Painfully. 

Bone cracked and blood poured, and his scream was endless. He struggled, he fought her, he tried to get away with everything he had, but Buffy’s hold was steadfast. She held her fangs clamped well in hand until he consigned to do the same, his own savaging the soft underside of her right arm. With a yelp of pain, his sire released her hold and he did the same. 

There was a moment filled with needless panting as they inspected their respective wounds. The bite Buffy had taken out of him was gnashy, bloody, and all around nasty. His fangs had held her arm in turn with every intent of inflicting as much damage as possible, but her retraction had initiated his own. His mark was more in effort for release than in need of furthered blood. 

They paused their personal inspection and met each other’s eyes. 

And lunged with simultaneous synchronicity. They hissed. They growled. They snarled. They scratched. They bit. They clawed. They ripped. They tore. They bled. They did everything but kill each other, and even that was borderline. Hands scrabbled at flesh, drawing a five-lane river of red wherever such could be managed. Mechanics and understanding guarded harmonized attacks to familiar patches of old injury as fangs concurrently sought out the other’s claim mark. The same denoting them as belonging to each other. Each attack waned and failed. The wills of two demons so strong that they could not defeat each other in the face of battle. 

Finally, Buffy kicked Spike across the stitches of earth once more and clamored to her feet. They studied each other for a long, empty minute, and prowled forward once more. 

The Slayer studied him wearily, looking for any sign that would proclaim his concession. Some dim part of her remembered that this was a battle she was prescheduled to lose, but the raging demon would hear none of it. Instead she leered back and presented herself to his wandering, appreciative eyes. Despite all the pain they had inflicted upon each other, he still wanted her. 

He still wanted this. 

Her own gaze drifted southward. Oh yeah. He was definitely still game. 

Spike smirked condescendingly. "See something you fancy, pet?" 

Then the demon regained some sense of self, and her eyes widened in a snarl of fury. Flashing her teeth in warning, she shot forward like a bat out of hell. Her childe neglected to move, and the affect of the collision was nearly catastrophic. And then she was a mixture of bites and scratches, tasting blood on her tongue. Her nails dug into a sea of soft skin, but before too much damage could be inflicted, Buffy found herself pushed away in a display of unexpected strength, collapsing in her glory of confusion, and flinging again to her feet in preparation for a second attack. 

It was all for not. Before she could launch herself at him again, Spike had stalked forward with everlasting determination. He snarled a marauder snarl and reached retracted his arm to deliver a mind-blowing backhand. Buffy gasped her surprise at the brute power behind the bluster. Despite all the blood drawn, the scars maimed, and the lines crossed, she didn’t figure he would opt for such a domineering attack. 

Her astonishment was her downfall. Spike saw his opening and seized it. In an instant, he had straddled her from behind and was bearing his fangs into his mark, eliciting an earth-trembling scream from his sire as his right hand coiled across her chest and reeled her tightly into him. 

"MINE!" he snarled into her ear. And that was it. The true strain of testament. No childe marked a sire without permission. Without reaping the consequences. If she allowed it, it was over. 

And she allowed it. With a moment of clarity and the utterance of a single world, it was over. "Yours." 

That pushed him over the final threshold. His other hand immediately darted between to her legs to instinctively inspect her wetness, and when he found his skin thoroughly drenched, he wasted no more pleasantries before thrusting himself home. Hard. Brutal. And fast. 

Their union was harsh. The want of violence. The need of blood. The final step solidifying equality. Pain against themselves. Pain against those that had brought them here. Pain for the sake of art. 

Pain, because without hatred, love would not exist. 

Just as Spike sensed his imminent release on the approach, he growled, flipped her over, and entered her again. As his movements became more and more erratic, he grasped her by the back of the head and directed her mouth to the corresponding mark that rested at his throat. 

She bit him. Gently. Returning to herself with the same measure of understanding. The tenderness behind her caress in counterpoint to the wild demon between her thighs seemed to push him over the edge, as did the subtle licks she indulged to stop the bleeding. "I am yours," she murmured to quell him as her own body spiraled toward climax, his following her sharply as though she were tumbling away from him. "Always yours. And you are mine." 

Spike began to calm at last, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling appreciatively. "Yours," he whimpered in turn. "Always yours." 

And it was. The worst had finally come and passed. 

*~*~*

"Now," Zack growled as he shoved Clarice against the wall beside his bedchamber, ignoring the looks of confused astonishment that rumbled from his friends and family at his uncharacteristic brutality. "Lead us to them. And I don’t think I have to remind you that you have a date with Mr. Pointy if you decide to get cute. Of course, that’s only if Giles is the one who kills you. My method will be much longer, but slower, and a whole helluva lot more painful." He slammed a hand next to her head tellingly, eyes going darker than anyone had ever seen. "Tell me. Where. Is. My. Daughter?" 

Starling’s eyes widened. The truth behind his eyes had the ability to unnerve her, and she hadn’t had reason to fear anything in years. "I…ummm…" 

"TELL ME!" 

Okay. Follow the nose. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. If only she could remember how to use her motor functions. 

Then she inhaled. 

And her eyes widened. 

"It’s not Darla," she said quickly. "Or Dru." 

"You’re lying to me," Zack said lowly. "To fucking protect them." 

Her mouth flew open at the accusation. "Why would I protect them?!" 

"They’re vampires, aren’t they?" 

Kelly placed a hand on Zack’s arm. "That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it," she said softly. "That’s like blaming Buffy and Spike." 

The look he betrayed for a minute suggested that the thought hadn’t been too off target, but it was obviously due to a heighten eradication of emotional discharge rather than true conviction. 

"I know," he scoffed bitterly. "But I’m going to get very stake happy if my daughter isn’t recovered NOW." His eyes never left his cousin. "If she’s hurt in any way, I’m going to think it’s your fault. You got me? Who fucking else would have reason or access to take Rosie away from me? Tell me! WHO?!" 

Clarice shrank with a helpless yelp. "It was Hannibal," she gasped. 

"What?" 

"Hannibal. Dr. Lecter. You know, my former? He took Rosie." Her eyes desperately jumped to Josh. "And Donna, too. He has both of them. I swear, Darla and Dru…as far as I can tell, they aren’t implicated. I can only smell him." 

At that, the fire behind Zack’s eyes dimmed. 

Just a bit. 

"Oh," he said in revelation. "You think you can tag his scent?" 

There was absolutely no hesitation in her rebuttal. "I know it." 

"Then, Cuz…" Zack stepped back and gestured emphatically. "Lead the way." 

*~*~*

Buffy awoke to the feel of hands softly mapping the contours of her skin. She felt the barren dirt of the earth against her flesh, felt the closing power of wounds that were not even yet an hour old. Felt the attentive concerned whimpers of her lover against her back, reassuring himself in his own regard that she was all right. 

"Mmmm…" she moaned, stretching. "Morning." 

An amused chuckle rumbled through him. "It’s night, love," he whispered huskily. "All more besides, you’ve been out for a grand total of fifteen minutes." 

"Yeah, but it feels like I’ve slept for weeks." Buffy smiled kittenishly and turned over so that they were face to face. The image her sleepy eyes took in was enough to worry the last strain of her heart away, but she knew by his candor that all was well. Marks aligned nearly every bit of flesh she could see in hindsight, but she knew instinctively that his wounds were not as bad as all that. The night could play tricks, even on vampires. "Did I do okay?" 

At that, a startled laugh escaped Spike’s lips. "Okay?" he repeated incredulously. "You bloody near tore me apart!" 

Her eyes popped open, all hint of residual fatigue gone at the suggestion. "Are you hurt?" she demanded. "I didn’t—" 

"Got a nice piece outta my hand…" He held the aforementioned appendage up for her view, but immediately softened the shock with a tender kiss at her temple. "But that’s ‘bout all the damage." 

"Oh God," she gasped. "I didn’t—" 

"’S okay, love. I told you what was gonna happen." 

"Yeah, but—" 

"Truthfully, I expected more." He grinned a little before his own features gave way to concern. "Now for the really important question. Are you all right? I didn’t…" His hands began skating across her flesh before she could even fathom an answer. "I didn’t…hurt you, did I?" 

Buffy smiled slightly. "You put up a good fight," she told him. "But I’m not really a bleeder." Her fingers found his chest and began to studiously map every presented scar. "Did it work? The mastership thing…did it…" 

"Oh yeah. That and then some…" Spike sighed and kissed her forehead. "I didn’t…I really didn’t expect it to get so nasty there at the end. I could’ve…I—" 

"Honey, you gave me every possible disclaimer there was to give. I was ready for whatever." 

"Ready for me to fuck you sideways?" 

"Well, yeah. I figured that was a given." 

"I just…" His eyes blurred and she sat up attentively, knowing then how much this was weighing on his conscience. Though she couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t…oh. Oh. "I took you with…aggression. I was brutal. Didn’t…God, I promised to never do that again…not after—" 

"Sweetie…" Buffy tentatively took his hands in hers and caressed the backs with her lips. "It’s all right. Neither one of us were really in control." 

"It bloody well felt like I was in control." 

"Me, too. But I know I wouldn’t have done this…" She ran a finger over his busted hand, frowning when he whimpered his pain. God, she hated the thought that she had done that to him. "I wouldn’t have done that had I been in control. Never. I would say ‘not in a thousand years’, but you might hold me to that." 

He grinned. 

"You were right about everything. The challenge of the mastership…it wasn’t about love at all. It was about power. And authority. And control." Buffy cupped his face tenderly. "But we are, Spike. We’re about love. And trust. And now we have equality. Forever." 

The platinum blonde shivered timely against her. "I just…" he said mutedly. "I wasn’t…prepared for that."

"You weren’t prepared? You gave me that horrendous crash-test seminar and you weren’t prepared?" 

"I knew what it meant…what it would do. I knew it wouldn’t be nice and gentle. I just…I guess I didn’t fully expect what happened." Spike’s eyes were watering again. "I hate it that I hurt you." 

"You didn’t." 

His brows arched dubiously. 

"All right, you did. And I hurt you. We knew it was gonna happen." Their hands laced—his in searing defiance to his injury. Never would he be so wounded as to refrain from holding her. "Do you regret it?" 

The reply was instantaneous. "No." 

"And you still trust me…after thrashing you like I did?" 

He grinned at her description in spite of himself. "Always. I love you. I just…God. I hurt…you…and you—" 

"Love you, too. And you’re right…you were so right. I felt it while we were out there…the hold I had…and with as much as my demon wanted it…I…the thought repulsed me. I didn’t want the power. Not over you. Not what the sire/childe thingy said I should have. You’re your own man, Spike. Always have been. And now…" She snuggled closer to him, draping a leg over his to reel him inward. A devilish smile crossed her face when she felt his hardened length brush against her inner thigh. It was no surprise; looking at linoleum could turn him on. "The entire world knows it." 

Spike chuckled. "The whole world, eh?" 

"I doubt anyone missed my ‘waking-the-dead’ scream." She smirked at her inane pun as he rolled his eyes, his good hand massaging her hip as he steadied and prepared to slide into her once more. This time out of reassurance. Out of need to grasp that they were really there, that love could prevail animality, and that all had changed for the infinite better. "Or yours, for that matter." 

There was nothing to do but smirk at that as he buried himself inside her once more, rumbling impassionedly and wasting no time before he began moving in slow, however deep thrusts. "Love me?" he whimpered, nibbling at her neck. 

"Yes," she groaned, craning her head up, meeting and matching him for everything he gave and more. "I’ll never stop." A few seconds’ worth of pants tumbled through her lips. "You love me?" 

"Always," he promised gruffly. "No one else. Never. You’re it, Buffy. You’re my one. My…" He desperately grasped at her backside for more leverage and began pumping in earnest, moaning inarticulately. "My hot, tight little bitch." 

She giggled. "That was poetic until the end." 

"It was poetic, period." 

"Says…" Whimper. "Who?" 

"William the Bloody…" A strenuous sigh for effort. "Awful…" Another. "Poet." Spike emitted a sharp breath and kissed her desperately. "God, you feel so good." 

"Not so bad yourself." 

"Not bad?!" He pulled back in time to see her giggle again. "You’ll never find anyone better." 

Buffy quirked a brow and licked a pathway from his collarbone to his lips. "Ego much?" 

"Much," he agreed, reaching between their bodies to send her over the edge. "Come on, pet. Come for me. Come for me, so I can get off, and get us the hell outta this forest." 

The Slayer graced him with a skeptical glance. "Golly, you sure know how to sweet talk a girl." 

"At least I’m honest." His mouth descended once again, nibbling sensuously at her jugular, drawing pathways up her throat to her ear and back again. Tenderizing flesh that was already screaming at his every touch. "Come on, Buffy. You’re so close, aren’ you? I can feel how close you are." He closed his with effort as his attentions honed. "Shit, how do you stay so tight?" 

"Years of practice," she tried to grumble, but it came out too needy to be convincing. "Before you…" 

"Naturally." 

"Again with…oh god…the…mmm…ego." 

"Mmm…yeah, but you stroke it every day." Spike smiled into her hair. "I love you." 

That sent her over the edge. The utterance of three words they recited to the point of redundancy. Three words that, over so much time, were practically a given. It still managed to strike a place within her untouchable by any other hand. And as Buffy gasped at her peak, her lover followed with a rumble of his own elation, spilling his cold warmth within welcoming depths, and resting contentedly against her. 

With as much as they both would’ve loved to drift off to sleep again, it was a given that living in the Forbidden Forest was likely a Hogwarts no-no. Spike forced himself to his feet and helped her do the same. They sighed, smiled at each other… 

Then realized simultaneously that they were still naked. 

"Uhhh, pet…" Spike glanced down at himself. "You didn’t…by chance…happen to remember where you put your knickers, did you? Or…anything else, for that matter?" 

A comically apprehensive look flashed across Buffy’s face. "Ummm…" 

Buggering…I don’t even remember stripping in the first place."

Neither do I. Something just…wanted me to, and I did." She favored him with a worried look. Spike! I’m not going to go back to Hogwarts like this!"

"Bloody right you’re not," he grumbled. "Your goodies are for my eyes only."

"Ditto." Her gaze traveled downward of its own volition. "Besides, your…umm…situation is a little more embarrassing than mine." 

"Well, yeah! I always sport stiffies around you!" 

"Really? Always?" Her features flooded with feminine pride. This was the sort of thing that a girl liked to hear after so many years of marriage, though her surprise was counterfeit. After all, his permanent…condition…was rather obvious. People were usually polite enough not to make mention. "I mean, now’s not the time." 

"Looks like we got ourselves a problem, then." He sighed dejectedly. "Any suggestions?" 

She looked at him with uncertainty. 

Twenty minutes passed before they emerged, having opted in light of their ignorance for the ever-apropos Adam and Eve after-tasting-forbidden-fruit look. Both wisely ignored the snide comments that rumbled from an amused Slater and approached the castle with airs of dignity. 

It was miraculous that they managed all the way to their room without being spotted by…anyone. The castle was eerily silent, but neither took notice. They were too thrilled to be near clothing again. 

Of course, empty bedroom plus nakedness usually led to more grunting, but Spike restrained himself. He thought it necessary to check on Zack and Kelly and see how things were on the ‘when-can-we-kill-Slater-already’ front. Had any decisions been made, he wanted first dibs. 

Something turned within his stomach, however, when they stopped before the Morris doorway. 

"Not right," Spike murmured. "Something’s not right." 

He pushed the door open and slammed it shut before Buffy could view the carnage. 

"What?" she demanded. "What is it?" 

Numbness. 

"Spike!" 

Cold. 

"SPIKE!" 

Death. Blood. Tears. 

God, how could he go from so blissfully happy to sobbing like a wanker again within seconds? Just knowing…every vault within him collapsed. If his negligence and male pride had endangered anyone in any way, he would never forgive himself. 

"William! What is it?" 

"There was a fight…" He murmured, coming back to himself. "That ponce, Lecter, was here. An’…" 

There was no need for clarification. Not with that look on his face. 

"Come on." Buffy grasped his wrist and tugged him up the hallway until he remembered himself and began running in earnest. "We’re not too late. By God, we’re not too late. We can’t be." 

Too late. He had already lost too many of his girls because of his tardiness. Dawn. Buffy. Leaping from Glory’s tower. Leaping…death…blood. 

_Too late. They wouldn’t be. No way. Not again._

Not if he had anything to say about it. 


	23. Chapter 23

Silence couldn’t even begin to describe the quietness that was in the wake of the congregation hiking toward Lecter’s proximity. Clarice blazed the trail for obvious reasons and Zack was right in her wake. The stillness and brooding calm he possessed as he stomped forward, was enough to stifle his wife’s cries in mortification. 

Death was in the air. Zack sensed it and embraced it wholeheartedly. The night Slater died, he did no more than tenderize the meat. All his outbursts have been no more than temper tantrums that resulted in nothing more than temporary pain. He had killed many a demon, but the human race was a quintessential no-no in the Scooby clan. 

Tonight he was feeling his blood chill. He knew his wife felt it too. He knew that at this moment, Kelly was on the verge of fright, but she understood that he was out of her control. The thought of scaring her tore him up inside, but not quite as much as the thought of anyone stealing his baby girl. 

Secretly he knew that there were more issues behind his determination in the face of death. He needed to prove a lot: to himself, his family, and his friends. He needed to prove that he was her father. His DNA was instilled in her and he watched her take her first steps. His name was on the birth certificate and he held her at her christening. 

He wouldn’t describe it as jealousy that he experienced toward Spike—envy before he would ever mouth jealous as a thought. But he knew that even his own daughter forgot that he was her dad at times. He was pained that on certain occasions his daughter and even his wife felt more protected in the platinum blonde’s embrace. 

No. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t resent Spike. He didn’t purposely try to step in and take Zack out of the limelight. He was vampire and his family understood that he can protect better than a mortal with a sword. Hell, Zack can remember a few times that he ran into the Cockney’s arms for protection. It was he that held the resentment. He was tired of himself. 

He had become the follower. Slater’s death was in the fact that he decided that cannibalism would be a fun hobby. It made him sick to know that his once-friend died because he decided that Hannibal Lecter would make an excellent notch on his friend belt. In some ways, Spike was also like that. Initially, it was the dangerous side that attracted him away from his Palisades suburban California upbringing. 

But he liked his "Billy Idol" buddy. Him and Spike instantly bonded when things settled down. Both were different then they wanted anyone but their wives to know. Spike and Zack needed each other. They had their loves, but they needed a male companion that asked no more from them. Both were in a point in their lives where that was demanded and they embraced. Fortunately for Zack, he found the purest friendship of his life. The past four years amounted to some of the best memories he possessed. 

But he was Spike’s groupie. They all saw him as the guy who pals around with the crazy vamp. He wasn’t anything more or anything less. That made him sick. Knowing that the first words out of anyone’s mouth when his family was in trouble was "Spike. Where’s Spike. Let’s get Spike." reaffirmed the thought that he must prove himself. A man. A husband. A father. A fighter. 

And death seemed the only way with this crowd. Death even beat out adverting Apocalypses. So death was on the menu and he was ready to serve it with a slightly unhealthy side of satisfaction. 

He knew that though he had time to think, his paternal instincts were still in hyper-drive. He was out protecting his nest with even more ferocity than a mother bear, but he also knew that there was more. The determination to prove himself was another natural phenomenon that he understood with remote detail. Part of being man he could hear every woman he ever met repeat. But there was one more factor that he could not grasp; solely for the fact that it didn’t seem wholly natural. 

He wanted to bring death. He wanted the power. And who better to take it from than a guilty and evil party. 

"Here," Clarice said with obvious reluctance as they approached a room. "They’re all in there."

*~*~* 

"Why are we here?" Donna had asked long after they were brought and tied in up in the small room in a remote wing of the castle. 

"I’m afraid that it is for no better reason than to distract. I deeply apologize Miss Moss for lack of better excuses, but my object is to merely throw off the search while Voldemort finishes his plan of becoming corporal." 

"You’re bad!" Rosie spat. "And…Daddy and Uncle Spike will get you." Her manners kicked in instinctively from her mother’s training. "Sir." 

Lecter gave the child a smile. "I must admit Miss Morris that I am not one to be particularly fond of the presence of small children. You, my dear, might be the exception. Your fire and grace serve as an exceptional pair. And your behavior and manners are remarkable for one with your age and cerebral development." 

"I’m four," she answered with comprehension of no more than the word ‘age.’ 

He emitted a soft chuckle. He then turned back to the woman. "I am a bit apprehensive to leave you alone while I seek out provisions so I hope both of you ate recently. Water is all that you shall be provided." 

"And what after this Voldemort becomes corporal?" Donna asked. "Will you let us go?" She made sure to sound as sweet as possible when addressing the man. She had heard of his reputation with those considered rude and she decided it was the worst possible death that she could imagine on this trip. That she would allow herself to imagine. 

"Yes, but there will be no point," Lecter said airily, taking a seat and pouring himself a drink. "Voldemort plans to eliminate the occupants of the castle as his initial act in corporally taking over the world." He added with a smile. "Rest assured. Only select few will be tortured in their final hours. Both of you will be painlessly put out of suffering." 

"Why would a man of this evil, play nice with us?" 

"Because you are not what he’s interested in. Sure, if the Dark Lord had more time, he would be insistent on adding you to his lists of pain and carnage, but he seems to be on quite a terribly tight schedule." 

"Oh," Donna gulped as a sweat broke out across her body. Now she was imagining worse deaths than being filleted by a cannibal. 

"Uncle Spike and Daddy will find us," Rosie said with a defiant nod. 

"You see, your Uncle Spike seemed to play right into our hands. He will unfortunately be away from the castle tonight along with his…charming wife," his teeth clenched with the last two words. "So that will make tracking a bit hard considering that all the others with refined senses of smell seem to have allegiances with the other side. And your father doesn’t seem capable of much besides assumptions without his soulless leader." 

"Magic. Willow could—"

"I made sure than any locator spells would give misinformation. That was a benefit of that gentlemen playing Dumbledore. He does know how to handle this magical spectrum quite well, I must say." 

"You’re wrong," Rosie yelled in anger. "You will lose, Sir!" 

Lecter laughed heartedly before beginning to berate the child. "Your innocence and blind faith is adorable, but throwing around such accusations is not very well mannered Rose dear." 

"Please don’t let her die, Dr. Lecter," Donna begged. "I figure it isn’t much but I’ll give anything to save the child." 

"What about Mr. Lyman? Would you sacrifice him for this child if I gave you the choice of letting just one of them go?" 

Donna’s eyes grew wide at the thought. She had no idea how to answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was serious or simply psychologically playing with her head to pass the time away. 

"Luckily, both will be leaving here," Zack said opening the door and walking straight to Lecter. "So no need to think about pesky ‘what if’ scenarios. You on the other hand," he pressed the Good Doctor against the wall. "Won’t be worrying about that problem long either." He watched as Kelly, Josh and Giles rushed in to untie the two. 

"Get out of here!" Kelly whispered to the group as she released the bonds on her daughter and took Rosie into her arms. She stood up and motioned for all to go to the door and they immediately followed. 

"You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do this," Zack sneered as fear flashed before the doctor’s eyes. Currently he was rendered completely helpless as he felt the power slip into the young man’s control. 

*~*~*

"Are you OK?" Josh asked as soon as they were a dozen yards away from the closed door. 

"Yes," she breathlessly nodded. "You?" 

"Are you kidding?" He was in between laughing and yelling. "You get kidnapped by a cannibal and ask if I’m OK? Where are the logistics in that?" 

"Where are the logistics in any of this?" She snapped before tugging him close to her and burying her head into his chest. 

Josh sighed as he felt himself regaining control in his life. "It’s all over, Donna," he whispered in her ear. 

"No it’s not," she nearly sobbed. Then she pulled his head down to her lips with demanding passion. 

Minutes later, they parted and gasped for air as they looked in one another’s eyes. "It’s far from over." 

He blinked. 

"Is that bad?" he had to ask. He was a bit confused as to where she was at the current moment. 

She nodded. 

The couple did not realize the two bodies that stormed past them. 

*~*~*

"Spike!" Kelly called when she made eye contact as he ran down the hall. 

He did not stop until he had made his way and had a hand of his niece’s back. He felt fractions of a second later, his wife do the same. "Is she—" 

"Fine," Kelly said pulling her daughter to her breast even tighter than before. "Zack," she sad and gestured her head to the door. "He’s going to…he’s beyond angry." 

Spike nodded as he ran to the door. He understood that if Zack went through with this, guilt would rack him eventually no matter what emotions he was currently harboring toward this man or anything in life. He took an unneeded breath before opening the door slowly. "Zangy," he said softly as he gently shut the door behind him. "Don’t worry ‘bout the old timer. We’ll take care if it some other way." 

Zack turned to look at the vampire and couldn’t help the bitterness that poured through. "So was it Giles they came and got you? Maybe Dumbledore himself? God knows that someone has to come make sure that Zack doesn’t get himself hurt." 

"Oh sod off, Morris," Spike snapped rolling his eyes. "Don’t you dare kill him to start proving your manhood. "That’ll do nothing more’n make the regret deeper down the road. Trust me as someone—" 

"Who’s been there?" Zack finished. "Thanks for the pep-talk." He pulled his glance once more from the man he had trapped against the wall to the vampire over his shoulder. "Look, I know that my motives are looking selfish, but who’s it selfish to? Myself? Rot that. Lecter? I bet you that you’d kill him for it. My family? Protection. Something that people don’t seem to think I can give. So what? What is it you’re going to tell me?" 

"Don’," Spike said taking a step toward him. "You got nothing to prove to Kel and Rosie. And certainly nothing with me and the Slayer. Hell, I’ve seen you fight and I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true, but you impress me. Four months and you already out did Stay Puft. These past four years you’ve actually saved me a few times in patrolling." He smiled as he added. "’Course for my manhood’s sake, I gotta say I saved you lots more, but that’s not the issue at the moment." 

"Though it won’t improve situations," Lecter drawled, now seeming almost bored with the current situation. "I had no intentions on hurting your daughter or Miss Moss. They were nothing more than a distraction. Which worked exquisitely well, might I add." 

"You’re right," Zack snapped tighten his grip on the old man. "It doesn’t. But nice to know." 

"Zangy, you didn’t kill Slater." 

"I know," he said through clenched teeth. 

"Is that the problem? You wanna kill him this time? Go ahead. You deserve it." 

"This is pathetic," the doctor scoffed. 

"No! I just…" He turned to Spike. "I have no power. No importance. Hell, I’m your Xander. I’m just like Xander is to Buffy, but for you. That’s it. We’re friends, but I need you to get me out of scrapes. He’s a demon magnet while I’m a family problem magnet. That’s all. I just need…more." 

"Fine!" Spike said exasperatedly throwing his hands in the air. "But the missus is worried that the your level if stability is in question and I aing too sure of it all myself. Zack Morris doesn’t need to add murder to the list of qualifications of why you’re the best gent in the world." 

"Huh? You didn’t just blatantly insult me?" Zack spat. 

"Ugh! No you dolt. What I’m trying to do is to keep from seeing you hurt." 

Neither Spike nor Zack were paying close enough attention to Lecter at the current moment to witness him slip something out of his pocket. 

"Don’t wanna see me get hurt?" Zack eyed skeptically. 

"’Course." Spike noticed the sudden change in the man as his gaze turned to the cannibal and his grip immediately ceased. "Good," he huffed. "Do you get me now?" That was when the scent of Zack’s blood filled his nostrils in abundance. 

Zack nodded as he clenched his gut and stubble backward, remaining on his feet as he pulled the Harpy from his gut and dropped it on the floor. "Yeah," he ground out. "Gotcha." 

Both men noticed Lecter’s move toward the door and Zack immediately motioned for him to go after him as gingerly sat down in the chair his daughter once occupied. 

Spike took care of the situation at hand within seconds having the doctor on the ground and unconscious with one blow to the face. The second he added for personal satisfaction before racing to his best friend’s side. "Let me see," he said as he got down on his knees and put a hand on Zack’s blood covered arm. 

"You were right," Zack said shaking his head. "I was determined to hurt myself." 

"Bugger that. Just distracted you’s what I did." 

"Should have listened better. Gotta respect my elders." 

"Are we gonna chat ‘bout the weather or are you going let me see?" Blood was pouring out freely and Spike had no idea what to expect. He knew it was more than a flesh wound, but he didn’t want to imagine the possibilities that could occur if Zack lost too much more blood. 

Zack was scared also. He knew that the knife was embedded so thoroughly that he had to actually dig it out of his own stomach and currently he knew that a wrong look from the vampire would throw his already fragile psyche to pot. But he gingerly took his arms away as he felt the blood bubble out. 

Spike lifted his ruined shirt and saw the five inch wound that he deduced was as long in depth as in diameter. His mind didn’t even want to imagine what vital organs were injured in the process. He placed the shirt down and added the pressure of his own fingers to the wound. A weak smile came across his face as he whispered. "Hold on Zangy. Sending in the infantry." His smile faded as he turned his head toward the door and bellowed. "BUFFY!" 

"What?" Both she and Kelly called. 

"Buffy, come here." 

"Only her," Zack groaned softly. 

"Alone," he added. 

Buffy came in, but was not allowed to close the door as Kelly pushed her way in. Both gasped in horror as they took in the blood-splattered floor, chairs and bodies. 

"Zack!" Kelly shrieked as she continued her fast approach. She was at Spike’s side in seconds as she concentrated on the wound. 

"Bugger," Zack groaned. "You can’t….go." He took a deep breath. "Rosie." 

She wiped a tear from her eye and whispered. "She’s with Giles. All fine. Now hush." She nearly got sick to her stomach when she added the visual to the stench already filling her nose. She worked as a trauma nurse and seen many wounds possibly worse than this one, but knowing that it was her soulmate and the father of her children brought things home in a heartbeat. 

"What do we do?" Buffy asked dumbfounded as she began to tie up the unconscious man. The blood soaked Harpy on the ground gave good inclination that Zack didn’t do this by tripping on a chair. 

"Rags," Kelly said as she swooned slightly. She repeated a bit stronger, "Rags. Anything that we can use to apply pressure. Then we need to get him to the medical ward." 

"I can walk," Zack muttered as he braced himself with Spike’s shoulder. But as he attempted to stand his eyes briefly rolled back in his head before he collapsed down once more.

"Maybe not," Spike pointed out. 

"I need something!" Kelly screamed at Buffy. 

The Slayer was always resourceful, but looking round the dark almost dungeon room she had little options. She finally caught sight of a tiny window nearly twenty feet off the floor. The material was no more than two feet wide, but all they had. She jumped up and ripped it off the rod as she brought it to Kelly’s side. 

She didn’t even hesitate before pressing it against his already blood soaked shirt. Unfortunately, it did little to stop the flow from the wound. 

"This is a lot of blood," Spike said in awe as he looked around the room. He of course had seen more, but not when it was solely from someone he truly cared about. 

"Hungry now? Why wait?" Zack murmured. "Have a Zackers." 

"Huh?" Buffy couldn’t help but ask. 

"Drink up. Snickers," He was drifting faster than they realized. 

"I need more than this," Kelly pulled away briefly. "Spike, get him flat. We have to slow the blood before we can think of moving him." She then pulled her shirt over hr head. The Slayer’s was in her hands seconds later. 

"I don’t think…I think I might be hurt," Zack was beginning to tremble and was on the verge of convulsion. 

"Naw," Spike said stone-faced as he ripped his shirt over his head. "Just a little scratch. I’d call it a flesh wound." He didn’t want to think about how the scratch was nearly half a foot deep and probably severing his liver. 

"We need a doctor," Kelly said as she wiped her eyes again, smearing blood across her forehead. She glanced at a bruised and maimed Spike and Buffy. "Oh God. You need one too." 

"Kelly," Zack nearly whimpered. 

"Yes," she leaned over and kissed him briefly before concentrating on his dulling gaze. 

"I love…you and the kids. Tell them. I love you…most of all." His eyes slowly closed. 

"No!" She screamed. "You aren’t going like this. This is no cheesy movie. You are not dying on me Zack Morris!" She slapped his face with a blood stained hand. 

"OK," he said absently batting his lashes open for a moment. "Not dying, just…rot it all. Dying." His eyes flickered close once more. 

"Oh God," she whimpered feeling for a pulse. "He’s fading." 

"Is there something…" Buffy asked herself. "Willow!" She yelped running to the door. "I’ll go get her. She can come up with something." Without another beat of hesitation the bloody, bruised and nearly naked vampire was out the door. 

"We have to keep him awake, Spike," Kelly said swallowing her sob. "If he goes now, we won’t get him back." 

"Right," Spike said with a panicked nod. He felt the life under his hands slowing stopping and he was horrified as he watched it in slow motion for the first time ever. "Hey, Zangy," he yelled. "Guess what? I did sleep with your wife." Nothing. "Yeah, I shagged her like she’s never been shagged before. Bet lay I ever had myself." The response in Zack was absolutely nothing. "Oh God," he whispered in a shaky fervor. "He’s…not making it." 

Kelly began taking deep breaths as she tried to keep her wits about or. He knew that at any moment she was going to burst into sobs, throw up or just pass out. Right now she knew that to save her husband, none were an option. "He. Can’t. Die." she ground out. 

He was unconscious now and his pulse was slowing by the minute. Spike and Kelly silently knew that Zack Morris’s life was at an end and there was no more either could do. Both kept pressure on his belly as time marched slowly on. 

*~*~*

No one would knew what to say if they had encountered Buffy as she ran down the hallway. If being utterly drenched in blood and covered with bruises and cuts weren’t enough of a distraction, being topless would have done the trick of attention getter quite nicely. But modesty was the last thing on her mind. The dying man the floor below was al she currently focused on. 

She didn’t bother to know on her door, but instead burst right in. Willow was sitting on her bed apparently going over what seemed to be lesson plans. Her expression could not be described with the word surprise when the blonde woman burst in the door.

"Buffy?" She said mouth gaping open in horror. 

"Zack," she gasped. "He’s…been stabbed." 

"Oh my," The Witch was in shock as she scampered toward the door. "I’m coming, but I don’t know what I can do." 

"You can save him!" Buffy practically screamed. "You’ve done bigger things than this." 

"Let’s just hope we get there in time." And before she fully understood the job set before her, Willow was on her way downstairs. 

*~*~*

Kelly had no idea what was going on before her eyes, but she knew that it shouldn’t be happening. She understood the unpredictability of death and the inevitability, but she would never have picked this is the last day of her husband’s life. He wasn’t dead yet and she wasn’t giving up hope, but as she saw the red around her and saw the breaths he emitted getting ever more shallow, reality was sinking in fast and it stung. 

She felt like she was just getting her husband back after years away. Ever since things occurred with Slater, she had felt uncomfortable with him. She felt like a fraud that didn’t deserve to lie by his side. What was only hours ago was what seemed years lifted off her shoulders and mind. 

They hadn’t even made love for days. Things were so hectic that Zack joked that they might never be together again. She remember laughing him off just his morning. 

_"I know that everything has been hard and let me say first and more most that I’m not pressuring," Zack said with a smile as he pulled his shirt on._

_"You want sex, don’t you?" She couldn’t help but blush when she saw the look in his eyes._

_"We could show those pesky vampires up if you give me the chance," he grinned. "Forget the stamina and the whole not needing to breathe issue. Put them on our level and they wouldn’t make it half as long as we could." The skeptical look she cast him as she crossed her arms caused him to amend. "Well…we’d beat them is all I’m saying."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Is that all that’s on your mind." she reached for her pants and began to unfasten them. "’Cause we have bigger issues, so we can get that out of the way."_

_"No," he came over and gently grasped her hands and wrapped his arms around her. "We’ll save that for another time. Our daughter is in the bathroom for goodness sakes, Mommy." He twirled her around and began to dance to an inner rhythm that Kelly immediately recognized. A tune that had no words, but that she found herself humming when she thought of him. In seconds, he had her waltzing across the floor._

_"Zack," she whispered as she laid her head on his shoulder. "I’m ready to go home."_

_"Me too," he spun her around before bringing her back into his tight embrace. "This place is driving me crazy, and," he brought a hand to gently rest on her swollen stomach. "We haven’t even begun the Name Game yet. I’m thinking…Zack Junior."_

_"No," She giggled. "Though not as bad as when you wanted to name Rosie, Zackarina."_

_"I think it had a Russian flare."_

_"Honey. I’m Polish and you’re no Russian."_

_"Austrian. It has Austrian flare."_

_"Momma, Daddy is being silly," Rosie said coming in to witness her mother and father spin around like crazy people._

_"Don’t I know it," she said as she kissed him gently._

_"Hey," he playfully snapped. "You better just let me be silly. One day you’ll be like ‘I wish Zack was silly like he used to be’ or ‘Zack was such a silly guy. He was so se—’"_

_"What?" Rosie giggled as she watched Kelly put a hand over his mouth and flash her daughter an innocent smile._

_"Nothing," Kelly replied pulling away to go tie her daughter’s shoes._

_The look Zack had on his face was positively rakish. The smirk on his face was almost as attractive as the smoldering fire in his eyes. "Sexy."_

_"ZACK!" her eyes grew wide._

_"What’s s…se…that?"_

_"I’ll let your mother explain," with that he chuckled and walked to the door._

_Kelly growled as she heard the door open. As she felt his presence leave the room. "Zack Morris, you’re going to pay for that one." She had then spent the next fifteen minutes explaining that she didn’t need to know what the world was if she couldn’t pronounce it._

Kelly began to silently cry as she thought about it. _"You’ll pay for that one."_ She knew that this wasn’t punishment for saying sexy in their daughter’s presence, but she still wanted to take back those words and all the other that she had ever spoken to him in anger. 

The Name Game. She remembered it well. They would lay in bed at night and talk until the early morning hours about possible names and the affects they might possess in various stages of life. 

_"No. Zackarina," she groaned as he brought up the name once more._

_"Fine," he laughed as he turned to face her. "Not your mom’s name."_

_"Agreed. We won’t tell her that Carol is just a bit too old fashioned. I like Joyce though. Especially after all I heard about her. You know that Buffy and Spike can’t have children."_

_"You also know that Dawnie can," Zack pointed out. "But we’ll give Joyce as much consideration as Melody. I happen to like my mother’s name."_

_"But what if my mom gets jealous?"_

_"Sod her!" After he spoke the words he cracked up laughing._

_She batted his arm playfully. "You’re hanging out with him way too much."_

_"Yeah," he sighed. "So we’ve made no progress tonight?" He couldn’t help but yawn._

_Kelly did the same before snuggling into his shoulder. "We learned about Fyarl demons tonight."_

_"Very important."_

_"Indeed."_

_They were on the verge of sleep with Zack called into the dark, "Rose!"_

_"Huh?" Kelly said lazily attempting to pull her head up before collapsing on his shoulder once more._

_"What better name than Rose."_

_"You know that it isn’t new-age."_

_"Yes," he hissed._

_"And if you’re thinking of Titanic, I don’t care how many times I watch it. I’m not naming any child after movie characters."_

_"No," he flipped on a light to look at her. "Rose. It’s perfect. What is the symbol for beauty? Rose. What’s the femininity and everything we want for her? Rose."_

_Kelly wiped the sleep from her and blinked in astonishment. "Either it’s past midnight or that’s the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever heard you say."_

_"You like?"_

_"Yes," she said slowly after a long pause. "Rose Morris. Rosie for short. I do, Zack."_

_He turned off the light and pulled her into him embrace once more. "Zack," she prodded after several quiet moments. "Where did you come up with that?"_

_"Crossword puzzle," he sheepishly admitted. "It was in yesterday’s and it asked for a four letter word that symbolized beauty. I waited till today to find out the answer."_

_"We just won’t tell that little secret," Kelly said with a smile as they fell asleep._

_"I’ll tell her when she’s older," Zack assured as they drifted off the ledge into unconsciousness._

"NO!" Kelly screamed coming back to reality. "He can’t die! He hasn’t told her that her name came from the crossword!" 

"Huh?" Spike was beginning to fear that she might lose her mind without Zack. 

"Spike, he can’t die," Kelly sobbed. "I can’t lose him. I need him to raise these babies. I need him to raise me." 

"I don’…I don’t know what to say. There isn’t much more that I can do." 

"Yes there is," she said looking into his eyes with cold certainty. "Save him." 

"But…how?" as soon as the word left his lips he finally understood what she was saying to him. "Kelly, I—" 

"Spike. I need a husband. Rosie needs a father and." she touched her stomach. "This one needs a name and we haven’t played the Name Game yet. I don’t care the repercussions. Call me selfish, but time is running out and I’m not ready to let go." She stared into his eyes. "You know he isn’t either. This isn’t his time. " She gestured to Lecter who was still unconscious. "And he isn’t the one that’s going to do him in." 

"Are you sure?" Spike couldn’t help but ask. He knew though that it was now or never as he felt life almost dwindle to nothing before his very eyes. 

"Sire him," Kelly said with calm assertiveness. 

Any other time, and he would have listed the reasons it was a bad idea. 

Any other time, and he would have sat her down and talked about what it meant. 

Any other time, and he would have called her daft for even considering it. 

Any other time, and he would have wallowed in decision making for hours, perhaps days on end. Wondering if doing it was right. Wondering if he was mucking everything up for the namesake of greed. Wondering if calling the shots was a stake-worthy offense. 

The look in Kelly’s eyes clenched the deal. This was not any other time. This was now. And there was no time to wallow in the potential reasoning for hasty decisions. If Zack weren’t saved now, he would never be saved. The ball had been unwittingly thrust into his court, and now the winning shot lay ultimately in his grasp. 

This had been a bloody weird day. 

Spike exhaled needlessly and shoved his reservations aside. The thrumming pulse under his fingertips was growing weaker and weaker. It wouldn’t take much to drain him. The bones in his face shifted naturally and his eyes glinted a fierce yellow before darting his head to skin Zack’s jugular. 

"Heads up, mate," he told the unconscious man, "you’re gonna have a helluva sweet-tooth when you wake up." 

Then, without further delay, his fangs sank into his best friend’s throat, and he drank. He drank his first human blood directly from the topper in over ten years. He drank what there was to drink. Spike’s eyes nearly crossed at the taste. Exquisite. Coppery. Warm. Alive. God, this was the good stuff. This was what he was made for. 

Forcibly, he retracted his fangs when he felt Zack’s pulse go from dying to near-dead. He ignored the gasp that tore from Kelly’s lips when he bit into the underside of his good wrist and hoisted his friend to drinking level. "Here yah go," he told his friend. "Drink’s on the house." 

And, without ceremony, he poised his open cut at Zack’s mouth. He felt Kelly’s eyes boring into his back but didn’t squander time answering her silent question. True, while he was far from reacting to anything around him, the properties of becoming a vampire were strong enough to defeat any physicality coming into play. The same had happened with Jessie what felt like a lifetime ago. Despite the condition of the human body, when presented with vampire blood, the most innate impulse is to drink. Always. 

It took mere seconds. Zack’s hands came to life and tightened around Spike’s forearm, sucking hungrily at the blood that poured from his friend’s willing body. Spike emitted a strong breath and sturdied himself with his other arm, wincing slightly when his busted hand was suddenly responsible for holding him steady. He heard a duo of gasps from behind and felt the inner flaring that warned his mate was near. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even look at Kelly. His eyes were transfixed on the man who was gurgling down his dead blood as though his life depended on it. 

Which it did, so he assumed that was fair. 

Ten years from last sampling true nummy goodness. Nearly three decades had passed since he sired anyone. Really sired them. There was Billy Ford the night that Buffy held a stake too Drusilla’s heart right after bursting in on a bunch of pulser wannabe vamps. And he hadn’t sired Ford. He had just promised him vampirehood. It had been Dalton who dished out the blood. Spike had never been one for making childer during his days as badass Master Vamp. The process of training and teaching the newbies was one that tired his nerves quickly. 

Suddenly, Zack’s eyes flew open and centered deadly on him, his grip moving down his arm to hold him still right above his mouth. Another series of gasps raced through the room, but Spike ignored them. He knew it was secondary reaction. The man wasn’t really looking out of those eyes. There was something else there entirely. He had seen it happen half a dozen times. All the same, his friend’s drinking became more insistent. More demanding. As though he wouldn’t be satisfied until all blood from Spike’s arm was completely gone. It was enough to make Spike wince in pain, but he wouldn’t make the man let go. This wasn’t about him. It was about giving his friend what he needed. 

Even if that was hordes and hordes of blood. His blood. 

Finally Zack released him and fell back. Spike reeled back as he was released, finding himself instantly in his wife’s arms. He stiffened slightly at the imminent incursion of ‘what the hell were you thinking?!’ to pour from her mouth, but was surprised to find himself petted and soothed and kissed for good measure. Breathing harsh, cold, pointless breaths, he turned to timidly meet her gaze. 

She understood. "I would’ve done the same thing." 

He grinned. There was no doubt about it. Equality rocked. 

"What…" Kelly was breathing harshly. "What was that?" 

Spike turned back to her, a frown marring his brow. "Fucking powerful," he said. "Zangy got a taste of what he wanted and drank to his heart’s content. Literally." His eyes leveled with hers. "He’s gonna be a bloody powerful fledging." 

For some odd reason, she blushed. With tears and worry clouding her face, she blushed. It was the most Kelly thing in the world to do. Blushing because her husband was going to be a strong vampire. "You’re just saying that." 

"No, I’m not," Spike told her seriously, in a tone that made her believe him. "Didja see how he latched to me? The boy was on the verge of death and he still…I’ve only seen a few in my time do that, and they all turned out bloody powerful." 

Buffy frowned. "Who?" 

He turned to her, grinning at her confusion. "You, for one." 

"I did?" 

"Yup. Don’t reckon you remember it, though. The Master’d already had his fill of you." He noted the last with a tad of inherent bitterness. "Oh well. All’s well that ends well. So, Red. You think you can work your mojo? Make sure the newbie doesn’t try to off us all when he wakes up?" 

At that, Willow seemed to remember herself. She was nodding vehemently the next minute, rolling up her sleeves. "Oh yeah. Definitely." Sparks flickered between nimble fingertips and she grinned impishly. "One souled soon-to-be-vamp coming right up…" 

*~*~*

"I feel like I oughta be pacing in some waiting room till a doc comes rushing in and declaring: it’s a boy!" 

Buffy narrowed her eyes, poignantly humored with her husband’s concern. Only forty-five minutes had passed since the siring downstairs, and already so much had changed. Rosie was staying with Xander and Anya—who were so not together—because, despite the child’s perception, seeing her own father dead would not merit the same reaction as seeing someone she already knew was dead. The girl, to her credit, had put up a good fight. She had just been through a horrible ordeal, after all, and wanted her mother. Kelly spent fifteen minutes attempting to explain why it was important that she stay with Xander, pointedly ignoring Spike and Buffy’s wordless pleas that she let them handle the child for one night. While she would have undoubtedly felt better with them watching over her given all that had happened, she needed the silent support system. She needed them with her, or at least within convenient proximity. 

For the sake of safety, and to make sure Xander and Anya didn’t get down and naughty with a child in the room, Willow opted to slumber with them as well. She was well prepared to protect everyone, and recent events had her more than jittery, too. Hell, with everything that had happened, it was a miracle half the castle didn’t join in the impromptu slumber party. 

"Do vampires tend to change gender in the entire siring process?" she teased. 

"No…but…" He was pacing heartily, looking ready to climb up a few walls. "I feel I’m about to pull my hair out." 

"Oh please," Buffy berated. "You’ve done this before. It’s all ‘been there, done that, got the t-shirt.’" 

"Your lot says that way too much." 

"They’re your lot, too, sweetie." She grinned at his misplacement. "Point being, you know what you’re doing. I was scared half outta my mind when I sired you." 

"Luv, while I know I did it right, this entire situation just…"

"Wiggins?" 

"For lack of a better appalling slaughter of the English language, yeah." 

She smirked. "You’re one to talk about slaughtering the English language," she observed.

"Very funny, pet." Spike sighed heavily, tried to school himself to patience, and was pacing again in seven seconds. "God, I bloody. Hate. Waiting!" 

"Never could’ve told." 

"You’re not helping." 

"Was I supposed to?" 

"Buffy—" 

"Spike, he’ll be fine. You did what you had to. There was nothing else…" The Slayer sighed wearily. "The same thought had gone through my head, but I was too busy trying to find Willow to even consider it. It scared me. Thinking, however briefly, I might have to sire someone else. I’m so glad it was you." 

"Don’t think he’ll be." 

"Huh?" 

Spike shook his head. "Somehow, while we were out exploring all of nature’s more finer delights…" He grinned in spite of himself when she flustered at that. Flustering at the thought of nearly destroying each other. What an odd pair. No wonder they fit so perfectly. "Zangy got the cockamamie notion that he’s my Harris." 

"He’s your what?" 

"My Stay Puft. My male cheerleader." Spike’s paces were becoming more and more heated. "I’m gonna kill whoever put that daft notion in his thick cranium. Do I treat Zack like some ruddy sidekick or what all?" 

"No," Buffy answered honestly. "But…you do sort of…" 

"What?" 

"Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes…sometimes you take it upon yourself to do the things that he’s responsible for. Without permission." 

They looked at each other for long seconds before realization dawned. 

"Rosie." 

"Bingo." 

Spike’s eyes went wide. "I…he…I don’…" 

"You don’t do it on purpose," Buffy quickly amended. "Hell, you don’t even know that you’re doing it. My point is, there are things that come as the unspoken fatherly responsibility. Rosie obeys you almost more stringently than she does either of her parents." 

Spike frowned. "Rot." 

"She does!" 

"I’m just her uncle—" 

"Who she happens to worship. Remember that day at McDonalds? When she wouldn’t come down from the fun slide? No one but you could get her to budge, all on the very vague threat that you were angry with her." The platinum vampire was stilled, guilt shading his face. "There was that one time when we were all out for a walk, and she spotted a demon and automatically asked you what kind it was, even though she knew Zack had the answer, too. When we went to the mall that day to go Christmas shopping a year ago and she disappeared in the island of clothes, you were the only one that could get her out. Even after they called her name on the P.A system. The list goes on and on, Spike. You’re not…you’re definitely not to blame for any of it…but Zack—" 

"Thinks I’m trying to hone in on his territory." 

Buffy smiled sadly. "He might." 

"I didn’t—" 

"—mean to. Yeah. Caught that much." The Slayer sighed and stood, moving across the room to offer him the comfort of an embrace. "We can’t have kids," she said softly. "I think…I think that bothers you more than it bothers me…" 

"What?" 

"Well, look around us. Zack had Rosie, Xander had Stephen, Giles—in every essence—had me. Hell, even Angel had Connor. I’m not saying that you want a kid because you’re jealous or feel less of a man—" 

Spike grumbled against her. "Better not be. Wouldn’t wanna have to prove otherwise right now." 

A humorless giggle erupted from her lips. "But I think you do feel that you…that you’re missing out on something. And you need to compensate by doting on and fathering the closest thing to a daughter you’ll ever have. That’s not your fault, sweetie. And to Zack’s presumption, I think he needs to understand that, too." 

"You don’…" God, this was gonna be a hard question to ask. "You don’t sometimes resent me for not being able to—" 

"No. Never." Off his surprised look, she continued. "When Angel…when he left me…of course, other than it being the best thing ever—" That last part was obligatory. Despite feeling, Spike always tensed when Angel was mentioned. "—I told him that I’d never want kids. He brushed it off, of course, saying I would…but really, ever since I was called, the chance of finding a nice man and settling down slim to none. I had an expiration date and all." Buffy sighed and rested her cheek against Spike’s chest. "And now here I am. Vampy Buffy and her Vampy Spike, unable to make little vampies because we’re both of the dead. And really, it doesn’t bother me. Not that much. Not when we have Rosie around…not with Dawn talking about wanting a huge family. I love the children…I really do. But I also like closing the door on them at the end of the night…and having it just the two of us." 

He smiled and cupped her cheek tenderly. "I like that, too." 

Buffy grinned and nuzzled into his touch. Between recent events and inherent fatigue from the mastership ritual, she was borderline about to collapse or run a marathon. They hadn’t been granted ample opportunity to explore their newfound closeness, and while such was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment, it was still a little overwhelming. 

Then again, it was grounds for an International holiday when their lives in general weren’t overwhelming. 

"I do think it bothers you more," she said softly. 

"What?" 

"Despite the non-Williamness of you, you did come from a generation that pushed the thought of childbearing over every threshold there is to push." Buffy tilted her head curiously. "I think sometimes you wish that Rosie was yours. That way you could dote and coddle all you want without having to worry about stepping on anyone’s toes. Hell, you treat her like your own daughter whenever you’re around her. And again with the not-your-faultness. It really isn’t. But…do you…Spike, do you sometimes wish that we could…is it more for you?" 

Spike glanced downward. "I don’t know," he answered honestly. "I don’t think I could stand it if we had a little brat running around the entire time. With as much as I love Rosie, it’s nice when she scampers off, y’know?" 

She smiled, nodding against his touch, not bothering to comment on the redundancy of a point they had made two seconds ago. "Yeah." 

Spike sighed heavily and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "When Kelly first came to me, being preggers and all, she was so worried that Zangy’d resent her for being with child again." 

Buffy stifled a giggle. It wasn’t often, but sometimes the true nature behind her husband’s age came shining through. ‘Being with child’ was such an old-fashioned phrase. She was sure the only other person to quote it that she knew was Giles. 

"I told her that when she and Zangy had the Bit, they had made something beautiful. Something that I…that I could never give you." The Slayer’s eyes widened and locked with his, filling with tears at the unmarked anguish on his face. So that was what this was about. Not about Rosie or fatherhood. He had finally stumbled over the one thing he could never do for her, despite how much he loved her. They would never have a tangible, flesh and blood symbolism of their affection. After all, wasn’t that what a child was? Symbolism that two people loved each other enough that they wanted to create life in celebration? "I told her that she had to have her kid for me, despite what her wanker of a husband said, and that it pissed me off to think that ‘e’d be anything less than ecstatic." 

"We could always adopt," Buffy said with a shrug. 

"I don’t want that." 

"Neither do I." 

"I just wish…" Spike shook his head irrationally. "Why’d you ever marry me? You deserve so much more." 

At that, Buffy dropped to her knees before him, running her hands up his jean clad thighs in sexless comfort. "I married you because I love you," she said. "I deserve to be with who I love, and so do you. Spike, at the end of the day, I don’t care about the children thing. In retrospect, I think it’s fortunate that we didn’t have kids. I wouldn’t wish the vampiric life on any child of mine for the world, but I still wouldn’t be able to bear watching…watching them grow older and leave me." She rested her head on his right leg, closing her eyes tightly. "If I wigged as much when I thought I might have to watch you do that…" Her voice became hoarse and she shook her head against him. Though the danger was long gone, the thought was fresh enough to still throw her off course. 

His hands found her shoulders and began to massage gently. "I know, kitten." 

"Besides, we have something they don’t…" She took his hand and placed it over the mark at her neck. "We have this." 

"Zack’ll likely do it, too." 

"So? And if he does? Hell, he’d just be copying us." 

Spike barked a laugh at that. "Right you are, love. We did it first. Haha!" 

They shared a few chuckles, soothing each other with warm looks and gentle, however chaste caresses. Buffy leaned back and tilted her head. "So," she began, "no regrets?" 

He smiled at her, and for a second, everything was all right in her world. "Never," he promised her. "Never regret a single sodding minute."

*~*~*

Despite her considerable good behavior, the nature of Rosie’s true age sometimes had a way of bursting through with vibrant colors. She was by far the most intelligent child any of the Scoobies had been in contact with, the evidence remained incontestable. She was a little girl. She was only four years old. There were aspects of this life that she had yet to fully understand. 

Tonight, her innermost child—full pun intended—was showing. 

"Why can’t I see my Daddy?" she demanded hotly. 

"He’s resting, Sweetie," Willow said, trying desperately to distract her with a teddy bear. "Don’t you want to play with Mr. Ruffles? He’s lonely and looking for a friend. Don’t you want to—" 

Rosie yanked the bear out of the Witch’s hand and chucked it across the room. "Sod Mr. Ruffles!" she insisted. "I want my—" 

As Willow fell down a well of despair, Xander approached and tentatively and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Here, let me. I’ve had to deal with Stephen’s temper tantrums enough to know what to do." 

The redheaded nodded gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered before practically flying across the room. 

"Rosie," he said, approaching the child. "Wanna come and see your Uncle Xander?" He stretched out his arms to accommodate her. 

At that, the girl seemed to consider him before inevitably nodding and running into his embrace. Within seconds he was walking her around the room, bouncing slightly as one would a smaller child. However, it obtained the desired effect, and she ceased protest. 

"Have I ever told you about the time that I turned into a hyena?" 

Rosie sniffled and shook her head against him, resting comfortably at his shoulder. "No, Uncle Xander. What’s a hiweenwa?" 

Willow giggled. "Remember the Lion King?" The girl nodded. "Well, they were the people who worked for Scar." 

Rosie’s eyes widened. "You turned into a hiweenwa?" 

"Well, it was a long time ago. Back when Aunt Buffy, Willow, and me were in school together. We went to the zoo and I decided to be a daredevil and go into a place where I wasn’t supposed to." 

"The girl’s bathroom?" the child guessed. 

He chuckled. "No. It was the hyena cave. I went in there and a big mystical power came over me and a few of the others who went with me. We all turned into hyena people." 

"He was the leader of the pack," Willow offered. 

"Vroom, vroom," Anya added. 

Xander tossed them an annoyed look. "I did some pretty gross things. Ate a piggy, tried to eat your Aunt Buffy—" 

"Ahem!" the vengeance demon protested. 

He rolled his eyes. "Not like that." 

"Like what?" Rosie asked. 

Willow and Xander groaned in unison. "Now you’ve gone and done it," the former berated irately. 

"Done what?" Rosie asked, not missing a beat. "What did I say?" 

"Nothing, Sweetie," the Witch reassured her. 

Now that she was calmed, the child looked up and surveyed the people standing around her. "Why can’t I see my Daddy?" she whimpered. "I wanna see my Daddy. He came to save me from the bad man and no one has let me see him." 

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances. 

"It’s complicated," Willow opted with the safest answer. 

Rosie pouted. She hated it when adults tried to pull that road. "And Mommy?" she asked softly. "Why can’t I see Mommy?" 

"Because she’s with your father," Anya said. 

"Ohhhh…" Rosie’s eyes clouded with understanding. "Is it…" her voice lowered to a whisper. "Their ‘alone time’?" 

"No," Anya replied. "She isn’t giving him any orgasms. That would defeat the purpose, as he wouldn’t be able to enjoy them. Or maybe she is. Just because he can’t enjoy them doesn’t mean she can’t. After all, she is soon going to know what it is like to copulate with someone without a—" 

"ANYA!" Xander and Willow shouted, horrified. 

"What?" she asked, honestly perplexed. Then she noted the confused look on the child’s face and rolled her eyes. "Oh. Right. Child." 

"What’s orga-org—" 

"Well, you see, it’s—" 

"ANYA!" 

She rolled her eyes again and moved for the door. "This is foolish," she decided. "The girl will find out eventually. She already knows about demons and evil, but isn’t mature enough to deal with sex? You are all a bunch of hypocrites." 

Thankfully, she was gone before anyone could contest her argument. 

Rosie understood that her answers were not forthcoming, and opted to instead forget the entire conversation. She could likely get Uncle Spike to tell her later. The thought merited another moment of consideration, and she gently pulled at Xander’s shirt until he looked at her. 

"What is it, honey?" 

"Can I see Uncle Spike and Aunt Buffy before I go to sleep?" 

"Sure thing. I’m sure they’d love a visit from you." 

She relaxed at this. If she couldn’t see her parents tonight, at least she could see her godparents. Things couldn’t be bad as all that. 

"Right now?" she pleaded. 

Willow smiled and rose to her feet. "Right now." 

*~*~*

Buffy and Spike were resting in the dark, indulging companionable silence. She was propped up against pillows and he was curled into her side, head resting on her stomach and his arms encircling her small form. Her hand toyed idly with his peroxide locks, the other resting on the arm across her middle. While neither slept, it was comfortable. Being content simply to be with one another against the soundless night. Such was one of the things she treasured most about their relationship. The ability to enjoy silence. 

There was no one else she would rather enjoy it with. 

They had been like this for about an hour, knowing instinctively that any of the delightful marital extracurricular activities that they enjoyed so much was out of the question, given Kelly’s state. And surprisingly, it didn’t seem to bother either one of them. While they celebrated their sex life more than any other married couple, save the Morrises until recent, it was nice to have the same level of pleasure in simply holding each other. 

Buffy glanced down at her husband and smiled. Despite all the badness that was going on right now, she could honestly say that there had never been a time in all her years where she was happier. Despite all his flaws, the noted darkening texture of his past, Spike truly was a good man. She saw it in his everyday behavior with such glaring luminosity that it took her aback at times in astonishment of how long it took her to get where she was. How long it took before she saw past her own prejudice and stopped blaming him for his vampirehood. He had done many wrong things and would never be wholly good, but he was a man. For everything he was, wasn’t, and would be, he was a man. 

Overcome by affection spurned only by her musings, Buffy leaned down and brushed a kiss over Spike’s brow, invoking a purr as he stirred slightly in her arms. She had to stifle the giggle that instinctively jumped in her throat. Despite his affinity for the pet name ‘kitten’, he was undoubtedly the feline of this relationship. 

A sudden knock at the door caused them both to jump—and again she had to wan away the temptation to chuckle. Big Bad Spike, scared out of his thoughts by a midnight visitor? Too cute. 

He humphed against her and buried himself further in her arms. "I don’t wanna get up," he pouted. 

"Mmm," she agreed, racing the contours of his cheekbone with her thumb. "But it might be Kelly." 

"And it might be Spawn." 

"Good point." 

"See? Don’t wanna get up." 

She didn’t, either, but her conscience was severe in the telling that she needed to be there for her friend. Had it not been for Zack and Kelly’s support—however silent—when their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t have gotten through. And it was worse now; the other woman had no idea what to expect. If Zack would be angry, if Zack would be Zack, if Willow’s spell had worked the first time and he was indeed soul-having. Therefore, keeping both sides in mind, Buffy opted with the lazy-girl’s way of solving the dilemma. 

Namely, she raised her head and called, "Come in!" 

The door swung open at that to reveal Xander and Rosie. The girl immediately requested to be lowered to the floor and she rushed over to the bed. "Uncle Spike! Aunt Buffy!" 

"Hey guys," Harris said sheepishly. "She just wanted to say goodnight." 

With no further thought to complain about moving, Spike and Buffy obligatorily untangled themselves from each other and sat up, smiling at the child. "Well now," Spike said. "Lookit what we have here!" 

Buffy planted a kiss on the child’s brow. "How are you doing, sweetie?" 

"They won’t let me see Mommy and Daddy." 

Everyone exchanged guilty glances.

"Well," the Slayer began. "Your Mom and Dad just need some—" 

"Alone time," Rosie agreed. "That’s what Anya said." 

"Sorry, by the way," Xander said, still situated at the doorway, "if we’re interrupting your own…‘alone time’. She just—" 

"You’re not interrupting anything, Stay Puft," Spike dismissed airily. "Wouldn’t wanna cheat the Bit here out’ve some quality time with her favorite godparents." 

Rosie giggled. "You’re my only godparents." 

"See? Don’t even need that process of elimination thing." 

Buffy knew that Spike could go on for hours with the girl, and despite their need to satisfy any lingering doubts, Rosie needed her sleep. Therefore she leaned forward and brushed another kiss over her niece’s forehead. "Sweet dreams," she said with a maternal intonation that either came from listening to Kelly, or from simply being a woman. The same that forewarned the girl not to object to the prescribed bedtime. 

Rosie smiled beamingly at them. "Sweet dreams to you, too!" She turned to Spike, grin fading a bit. "Will Daddy be all right?" 

At that, everyone froze. 

Then relaxed. 

She knew. Of course she knew. She was an amazingly perceptive child. And while she might not know exactly what was wrong, she was intelligent enough to piece together that all was not as it should be. 

"He’ll be right as rain," Spike promised her. "Back to playing Barbies with you in no time." 

The girl giggled scandalously. "You’re not supposed to know about that, Uncle Spike!" 

"I know, Bit," he replied, eyes twinkling. "It’s our little secret, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"In the meantime, I gotta ask yeah…" He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Do you know…the muffin man?" 

Buffy smiled from her vantage point. Despite everything, it was a lot of fun watching them interact. 

Rosie’s spirits heightened. The nursery rhyme had become a favorite ever since the umpteen viewings of ‘Shrek’—both in theatres and on DVD. "The muffin man?" 

"The muffin man," Spike agreed. 

"Yes, I know the muffin man. Who lives on Dreary Lane?" 

All the adults in the room chuckled a bit at that. 

"Well…she’s married to…the muffin man." 

"The muffin man?" 

Spike sobbed dramatically. "THE MUFFIN MAN!" 

That was it; everyone burst into hysterics. Xander took the greenlight and paraded across the room to collect the girl in his embrace before heading back to the door. 

"I’ll thank you for getting her worked up before bedtime," he said snidely. "Goodnight, you guys." 

"G’night," they called in unison. 

Encompassed in dark once more, Buffy and Spike traded a look and reverted back to their positions, curled comfortably in each other’s arms. 

"She’s so smart," the Slayer remarked. 

"Yeah. Must get it from the Kapowski side of the famiy." 

"Do you think it was the Hellmouth that did it? That made her so…" 

"Insightful?" 

"For lack of a better word, yeah." 

Spike thought about it for a minute. "I don’t know," he decided. "I can’t imagine her any less than what she is. Doesn’t matter where she was born. I think she was chosen for whatever gifts the Powers gave her. Call me a nancy—" 

"You’re a nancy," Buffy intervened with a smirk, earning a mild tickle attack in turn. 

"—but that’s my conclusion." 

"It’s a good one." 

"I think so." Spike smiled proudly. "Though…I gotta tell yeah, love." 

"What?" 

"I’m plum worn out. That fifteen minute nap in the woods didn’t help any." He glanced up and met her eyes. "So g’night, my sweet." 

She smiled. "Goodnight, Spike." 

"Love you." 

"Love you more." 

"Do not." 

"Wanna bet?" 

"Sure…tomorrow." He sighed contentedly against her. "Sleep now." 

"Fuck later," she agreed. 

"Did you just say—" 

"Oh, shut up." 

*~*~*

There was a strange jumpiness about Spike all through the next day that no one could exactly pinpoint. He wolfed down three huge goblets of blood for breakfast, lamenting the fact that they couldn’t enjoy a good hunt like the day before. He spent three hours working busily at unseen compositions that would likely never know the light of day. He indulged a game of tag with Rosie down one of the quieter hallways to keep her mind off of things. He was in a mood to make coffee nervous, and no one knew why until nightfall. 

Of course. He was a sire, after all. And he was anxious to see his childe. Buffy recalled a sudden burst of energy the night that Spike awoke as well, but she had been too preoccupied in sitting with him to pay it much notice. 

In the end, Kelly asked for only Spike, Buffy, and Willow to be present, the latter more for safety precautions than genuine need. It was an unspoken understanding that the Witch would make herself scarce if it was obvious Zack when he awoke from his seemingly endless slumber. 

Buffy quirked a brow at her husband when he set a box of Weetabix next to the pitcher of pig’s blood. In reply, he shrugged and smiled. 

"I just wanna make sure he has everything," he said. "’Sides, it gives the blood texture." 

That was his personal way of saying, ‘it will help him overcome the ick factor’. 

Kelly briefly allowed her eyes to wander from her still husband to gaze at his savior. Her expression was wrought with grief and worry, but aligned with fortitude that no one could contest. "Thank you, Spike," she said softly. "For everything you’ve done for us. For him." 

"Don’t thank me now, Precious," Spike replied. "Wait till your dear ole hubby doesn’t stake me for what I’ve done to him." 

"He won’t stake you." 

"Well, no he won’t. I’m his sire, and he won’t…but he’ll try." 

"No he—" 

A long moan ran through the room as though the man knew that he was the object of debate, and everything fell still. Immediately, Kelly moved to his side and grasped his hand, mindless of the precautionary speech Willow had given her earlier. It was him. It had to be him. She knew it. 

Simply seeing him move after being with him dead for twenty-four hours was a miracle all in itself. 

The tremors started low at first before slowly climbing up his body, accompanied by hearty little breaths as his eyes began to flutter. He seemed to be struggling with himself, tightly wound and jerking lightly back and forth on the bed. Kelly didn’t take her eyes off him for a second. She held his hand, murmured a prayer, and waited for him to come back to her. 

Suddenly, Zack’s eyes flew open and he lurched back with a heartfelt gasp. And it was over. 

He was back. 

He was a vampire. 

And he was really hungry. 

He bolted upright as he looked around wildly with terrified confusion. "Zack," Kelly whispered taking his hand and pressing it to her cheek. "It’s going to be all right." 

His eyes slowly went to hers; shameful relief the best way to describe his gaze. "Kelly." Their eyes locked for moments before he closed his eyes and sighed in relief. The next moment he felt the cold metal cup touch his lips and he assumed it was none other than his wife’s gesture. He instantly recognized the smell as the most delicious thing he had ever encountered, but also knew that he had smelled something like it once before. As he sipped the nectar down, he realized how much he needed it and didn’t open his eyes till the third glass was empty. 

Then he realized what he drank. He was hoping that it was all a dream but then he realized as Spike, Buffy and Kelly looked at him questionably it all came back—he was a vampire. He wiped his mouth as he looked to Spike. "You?" he asked Spike. 

Spike nodded solemnly before sharing a long glance with the man before turning abruptly and walking out the door. Buffy could do no more than follow. 

"Hi," Zack whispered to the door after it closed. "Nice to see you too." 

"Oh, Zack," Kelly said breaking into tears and flinging her arms around his neck. "I’m so, so sorry about this." 

"Hush," he said kissing her temple. "All is done and all is well." 

"But," she said shaking her head in his shoulder. "I was selfish. I couldn’t live without you. I should have—" 

"No," he nearly growled. He pulled her to arms length and kissed her with as much passion as he ever had before. Minutes then passed before he parted from her and began to nibble her neck. "No," he said more gently. "You know that I wasn’t ready yet. We have children to raise and a son to name." 

"This is just all so confusing." 

"You’re telling me," he chuckled humorlessly. He looked in her eyes as he ran a hand shakily through his hair. "I’m so scared, Kelly." 

"Me too," She cuddled up beside him as they laid down on the bed. "I feel like I took everything away from you by keeping you here. You have no pulse, no life, no warmth, no chance at Heaven, no—" 

"I have you. I have Rosie. I have him," he placed his hand on her tummy. "I have family and friends. I have a chance at living again. You give me everything." 

She sniffled. "I gave you an awful sun allergy too." 

He smirked. "So, I’m Spike’s childe now." 

She nodded understanding the problems her husband had already been silently dealing with. She knew her husband was a born leader and desired to be in control and considered an individual. She also knew that at times with Spike, Zack felt none of those things. They were too much like one another and unlikely to admit it. "It was the only way." 

"Yeah," he said slowly staring briefly off in the distance before adverting his gaze to her once more. "I guess that whole gaining of control issue is shot to hell." 

"No," Kelly said quickly. They both understood the world of vampires quite more than they ever expected. "He won’t use that against you. He’s…he’s your best friend." 

"How’s Rosie?" Zack asked changing the subject. 

"She’s fine. Probably driving Xander crazy. I haven’t seen her," She looked away and whispered. "I wouldn’t leave you." 

"You’re as bad as Buffy," Zack teased gently stroking her hair. Then he added, "How are you?" 

"Physically: fine. Emotionally: lost." She sighed. "What’s happened Zack? This whole trip has been…indescribable. First Slater, then Spike, then jealousy, then Spike, then Spike, then Oz, then some more Spike, then Willow, then William, then Buffy and Spike, then somewhere in there we have Dumbledore Two and Darla and Dru," She chuckled at the rhyme before continuing. "Then Angelus, then Angel, then assumptions scattered about and don’t forget finding out the truth about Slater, then Rosie, then Rosie kidnapped then you." 

"I’m a vampire," he offered for lack of words. 

"Yes you are," She laughed at the serious look that embedded his features as he stated the fact. "I’m married to a vampire and I didn’t cheat on him. I was…raped." 

"I’m so sorry," Zack said pulling her into his cold embrace. The lack of warmth was the one thing that the couple was going to strongly miss. "I was such an—" 

"Forgiven," he said kissing him. "Zack, we have enough current problems that dealing with the past, no matter how important, is not an option. When we get home then we can talk about that, but in the meantime, I forgive you if you forgive me. I know we didn’t trust me and I know that’s an issue that we need to face." 

"I trust you now. Forever." 

"I know that too. I know you aren’t just saying that. I know that I trust you too even if we don’t trust ourselves." 

"Spike’s issues he can deal with," Zack comforted. "He’ll deal with what happened these few days when we get home. Him and Buffy will face the chip, demon, human, siring deal and figure things out. They’ll settle issues with trust and learning about who they are now." 

"Poor Willow," Kelly said. "This is all so hard for her. She hasn’t got to mourn Oz and now she’s working to free us and to help the wizarding world." 

"She’s strong," Zack said with a nod of honor for the woman. 

"She gave you your soul." When Zack looked at her suddenly remembering that he shouldn’t be himself, his eyes grew wide. 

"She did?" 

"A permanent one. She did a good job too if I don’t say so myself." She smiled. 

"Is she sure her mojo didn’t get all wonky?" Zack was worried that he’s end up hurting his family much like Spike had done. 

"Yes. Though I can see why worry is in order. Spike said that you’re…You’re powerful Zack." 

"Huh? Not me," he said in disbelief. 

"He said you’re going to be a powerful fledging. You’re in the Order you know." 

"I am," He said, realizing. Then to himself he muttered, "The Master sired Buffy and Buffy sired Spike. Then Spike sired…Wow. I am kind powerful." 

Kelly blushed. "I know." She was almost giddy. She knew how important that was to her husband. 

They took a few minutes to bask and collect their thoughts before continuing. Both were lying on their backs holding hands as they stared up at the ceiling. "So besides all that, we need to get out of here," Zack announced. 

"And Rosie," Kelly rolled over to face him as he reciprocated the move. "Our daughter…can See. That scares me Zack. I was once afraid that our daughter was going to grow up and be unhappy in school or have a disability. Or that she would feel unspecial when we had other children." 

"Don’t really have to worry too much about that one," Zack pointed out. Though both were silently disappointed that they would never have their ideal three children, both would discuss that issue much later. 

"Now," she said. "I’m afraid that she’ll die a horrible death or she’ll lose her parents. I’m afraid that she’ll be…a Slayer." 

"I know," he said in a whisper as he cupped her cheek and wiped away a fallen tear. 

"I don’t want her to be the Chosen One. That would be a…death sentence. Look at Buffy." 

"We can’t worry about the future like that just like you said not to worry about the past. If we start that game, I think that we’ll just go mad." 

"I’m already there and I bought us the family plan." 

"Thanks," he said dryly as a smile spread across his face. 

"Then what do we worry about, Zack?" 

"Now." With that he leaned over and kissed her, gently at first before passion grew to a fevered level of intensity. 

"I love you," Zack whispered as he pulled her blouse over her head. 

"I love you more," She returned as she reached for his pants. 

"Prove it," He said before kissing her once more as her bra unfastened. 

And she attempted. 


	24. Chapter 24

"That’s all I know!" Donna said repeating Dr. Lecter’s words once more to all those researching in the library. "I wish I could tell you what it all means, but I can’t!" 

"But if we could find out quickly it would be nice," Josh said as he mulled over his laptop. "Preferably before a real family crisis does erupt and I can’t use the excuse anymore." 

"How is the outside world doing?" Xander asked.

"Sam emailed me. Sounds like living in California is getting crazier by the minute. Poor guy regrets ever running in Orange County now. With Mr. Freeze in office you can only imagine how crazy the system is." 

"Doesn’t help that the White House’s third most powerful man is trapped in an enchanted British school," Dawn pointed out. 

"I’m not number three," Josh said with a blush.

"Not what Donna said," Dawn said with a shrug. 

Josh eyed his assistant questionably before arching a brow. "Really?" 

"I think you’re higher than Toby and CJ," Donna said airily. 

Before he could reply, the door opened and Willow walked in. All eyes looked to her and she smiled in reassurance. "All is fine." 

"Is he…?" Xander didn’t want to say too much and excite the anxious girl who was flipping through one of the more picture full books on the floor. 

"Awake and just like always. He was a little startled at first, but I left when I saw that he was…himself." 

"Good," Giles said in relief. The Watcher had practically adopted the couple and their daughter as children almost as quickly as they adopted him as a father. "How soon before…?" He gestured to the girl making faces as she thumbed through the book. 

"Dunno," The Witch admitted. "I know that it’ll probably be a while. From what I understand, he’ll want some alone time first." 

"But he’s hurt." 

"Now he’ll just be horny," Anya said before getting thwapped by Dawn. "It’s true. Look what happened to Buffy. We thought that it was just Spike, but it seems to be the whole kind. Sex and killing." 

"Would you come have a conversation with my friend Sam?" Josh said with a laugh. "I would get a kick out it, Anya." 

"He’s he the attractive one?" 

"Oh yeah," Donna said. When she felt the horrified expression her lover gave her she amended. "Too cute at times…I mean not that cute. Anyways, he’s a Congressman in California." 

"Sure," Anya said with a shrug. 

"I’m still confused about Zack, but we need to get back to research," Giles said with a shake of his head. "Social time is over." 

Wesley turned to Donna once more, "Now what exactly did Dr. Lecter say again?" 

*~*~*

"He’s not going to hate you," Buffy reassured her husband. "He knows why you did it." 

"I shoulda known that me being his sire was a bad idea. He was already feeling all bent out of shape before I decided to play Daddy." 

"With him, not Rosie, you mean," Buffy pointed out. 

"Bloody everlasting hell!" Spike said throwing his hands up in defeat as he sunk in a chair. "Just stake me now." 

Buffy paced over to their bedroom window and looked out to see that Slater and Lecter were still at their perspective trees. "Spike, you two just need to talk. I’m sure he understands the siring and he’ll understand the rest if you simply talk to him." 

"What?" Spike said looking at her with a look that would have suggested she just say he should strip down to his knickers and run around the castle singing ‘Man I Feel Like a Woman.’ 

"You know, that thing we’re kinda doing right now. I say something then you reply. It goes in that fashion until you say something that I reply about. Kinda like that." 

"I can’t," he said pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "I told you what Zangy was saying. This is going do more harm’n good. No, he probably hates me." He slapped himself on the forehead. "Stupid wanker. Shoulda known better." 

Buffy smiled. "Right stupid wanker. You should know better right now. Not to make this sound pansy-like, but you two love each other. Like brothers," she added quickly. "You two are going to fight and you two are going to make up. This is just another issue that you’ll have to deal with. And talking seems the most direct way." 

"He don’t wanna be ‘round me! he hates me!" Spike screamed. 

"Stop that!" Buffy scolded. "He doesn’t." 

"Zangy hates me!" 

"Stop shouting!" 

"I’m not shouting!" He screamed even louder. 

"I swear, Spike. If you don’t calm down, I’m going to hit you." 

Spike was jumping up in down in near hysteria. "I mucked up his life forever ‘Course he bloody well hates me. And I’m not shouting!" 

The blow knocked him straight to the ground, but it caused the desired effect at the vampire seemed to slowly regain composure. Buffy was quickly at his side hoisting him back to his feet. "Sorry," she said biting her lip. "You needed it though." 

"Yeah," he said, doubtful as he rubbed his jaw. Inside, he knew she was right. 

"You are just going to have to confront him about it is all." 

"No." Spike shook his head with conviction. "Not ’till he approaches me first. I’m not forcing myself on him." 

"Fine," Buffy said rolling her eyes. 

"Well," he huffed. "Zangy’ll wanna stake me when I go to him!" 

"Spike." She gently stroked his arm trying to soothe him. "Stop shouting, dear." 

"I’m not!" When she raised her fist he conceded. "Fine," he mumbled. "I was. But he’s gonna have to come to me first." 

*~*~*

"What time is it?" Kelly said lazily as she laid her head back against her husband’s chest. 

"Ask the dead guy, why don’t ya," Zack smirked as he pulled her close and kissed her neck. "Why?" 

"Well, the sun was still partially out I thought when we started…" 

"Oh," he said as they looked out the window they faced to the night-filled sky. "You should probably eat some dinner." 

"Is that your romantic way of saying you’re hungry again?" 

"Partially," he sheepishly admitted. "That and you should eat something. Doubt you have." 

"True," She said beginning to get up before she felt the hand creep up her inner thigh. "Yes?" 

"Was that whole time issue to get me off track about naming our son Zack Junior?" 

"Mmm hmm," She muttered as she gave up fighting and laid her back against her husband’s chest once more. "He’s not going to be named that," Kelly sighed closing her eyes. 

As his hand reached its intended destination, Zack said, "Well, you’ll just have to come up with something better." 

"Zack," she moaned. 

"Yes, love." He was enjoying this way too much as he kissed her jaw. 

"Rosie," she muttered. 

Zack stopped his hands immediately. He understood what she meant but he still intended to have his fun. "Huh? You men I touch you and you think of four-year old girls?" 

Kelly couldn’t help but smile as she turned to face him. "Only when they have your DNA. We can’t do this all night." 

"I think we can," Zack said with a nod. "In fact, I’m sure we could pull it off." 

"Zack," She groaned, pulling away as his hands went up her thighs once again. "Rosie needs us." 

He smiled as he gave in. "I know. I surrendered when you said her name." 

Kelly then crawled out of bed and began to get herself dressed. Several minutes went by that Zack lay with his hands behind his head and watched her naked form in satisfaction and gratitude. As he watched her dress, he concentrated on her swollen belly and the way her face glowed in the light. He was pulled back from his daydream when she asked, "Do you want to stay here or shall I bring you dinner and a daughter?" 

"I’ll go with you," he said getting up and walking over to their suitcase. "Who knows about me?" He questioned as he wiggled into his pants. 

"Of course Buffy and Spike. Willow, Xander, Anya and maybe Dawn." 

"Giles?" Zack nearly squeaked when he asked. The more he thought about it, the more he felt ashamed in the fact that he knew a part of the man would be disappointed. 

Kelly shook her head. "I thought you should tell him." 

"Chicken," he mumbled. 

As he looked down at himself he realized just how much of a mess he was. Though most was washed away, he skin was still tinted all over with his blood. 

"I washed you off," She said reading his mind. "But now that you can get in the tub, I’d suggest you probably take a shower." 

"Yeah," he said as he unfastened his pants. "You go on and get some food. I’ll get cleaned up and we can go see her together." 

She walked over and kissed his lips. "Don’t worry. No one is going to think less of you. Not Giles. Not her." 

"And not you," he said reassuring himself. 

"Of course," he said before grabbing Zack’s Bayside track sweatshirt and heading to the door. "And just for the record, I’ve just found out why Buff preferred to sleep with vamps." 

As Zack’s mouth gaped open, his wife giggled and walked out leaving him all alone for the first time. He quickly closed his mouth because he had to admit that he wasn’t surprised no matter how much he liked to tease Spike. 

Spike. His sire. That was definitely one he wasn’t expecting this trip. He admitted that secretly there were times that he had considered the fate of becoming one of the undead, but him and Kelly only joked that it would be after they had three kids and decided how they would arrange it to still be good parents. 

"And we have to make sure we don’t wait till we get so old that Buffy and Spike will forever look better than us," Zack teased. "We would never hear the end of it." 

"Who says they don’t now?" Kelly snickered. 

"Did you just insult yourself, honey?"

"Are you kidding? I was talking about you." 

Now as he went to stare at his naked form in the mirror he realized that he would never do that again. He would never have the opportunity check his hair as he went out the door. He would never get the chance to set Rosie on the vanity after he shaved in the morning so they could stare at each other and point out their similar features. How would he show his son how to shave in the bathroom? 

As he turned the faucets on and started the shower he looked at his ever-pale skin. Don’t have to worry about those tanning bed bills anymore. Though I could always try sunless. He snickered as he crawled under the steaming water. 

It felt odd to be undead. To have a body with no warmth. To never feel or your heart beat or have a necessity to breathe. The strangest feeling though was one that felt just wrong. Like it shouldn’t be here. Awkward and out of place. And unwanted. As Spike walked out on him, he had felt unexplainably sad and useless. He didn’t know what to expect, but not that. 

He stared down to his abdomen and he saw the faintest traces of the lethal scar stretch across. Damn! She is good, he thought about Willow’s magical works. As he took the soap to his body and began rigorously scrubbing, he silently thanked her for being able to give him a soul. He knew Kelly hadn’t thought about that when she made the call, but he was afraid of what he might’ve done. He planned murder and felt little remorse for the deaths he had been a part to when he was soulful, though years did pass that he began to regret Slater’s murder and he always regretted staking Jessie. But with no soul, he shuddered to think what might have come to pass. 

The flow of the water over his flesh he decided served as two cleansings. A literal cleansing, since he was filthy. But also a more mental cleansing—he was letting go of the past with Kelly and the situations that had arisen since they came. He could not forget Oz, but all the insanity that had played out he decided was best to try and forget. His problems with Spike had been problems before this and his current plans were to find a way for them to get out and get home. 

But he needed Spike. He cursed himself for even thinking it, but he felt like he needed to be close to him. Talk to him, be in his presence. He wanted to hear Spike speak to him and tell him how proud he was. No. I already have father issues. I don’t need another one. A even more dysfunctional one. 

He grunted to himself as he shut off the water and stepped out. He toweled himself off and pulled on the clothes his wife so thoughtfully placed on the counter for him. Then he went back into the main room to find her sitting their eating away at a salad. 

"Feel better?" She asked with a mouth full of lettuce. He could tell that she had fixed a rather large one and she was trying her best to consume the evidence before he came out. 

"Very much so," he picked a cherry tomato off her plate before taking his mug off the table. "Thanks," he said raising the glass to his lips. 

"Just as long as you don’t make fun of my dinner." 

He again finished the glass in record time notably disgusted at how much he enjoyed the taste. "This is gross," he said as he placed the mug back down. As she nodded he couldn’t help but look at her with a mischievous smirk. "But not as bad as putting Italian and ranch dressing on the same salad." 

"Zack," she whimpered in protest. 

"Sorry," he said lifting his hands in innocence. "I didn’t mention the cottage cheese and peanuts." 

She set the plate down on the table next to the empty mug. "Fine. Let’s go find her." 

"All right, Kel." 

"And if you don’t make another crack about my dinner, I’ll give you a second glass of…we have to come up with some better word for it. Saying my husband drinks blood is just gross." 

Zack had to agree, but he couldn’t resist. "Saying my wife likes Italian, ranch and chocolate covered raisins in her salad is too." 

"There aren’t any!" 

"I know. You wanted them though. Just tell me that I’m wrong and you didn’t settle on peanuts. You always want chocolate covered raisins and cottage cheese when you’re pregnant." 

"Shut up," She muttered. "Over there is your blood." 

With their mutual playful mood, they walked down to the library in search of their daughter. 

When they entered the room hand in hand, the entire room looked up at them in surprise. "Zack?" Giles asked staring up in amazement. "You should be in bed." 

"It’s OK," he said with a shy smile. "I’m feeling much better." He then looked to the Witch and said, "Thanks Will." 

"Piece of cake," she said with a blush. 

"Sit down at least," Wesley said clearing a place for the couple. 

"Oh my," Lorne said as they sat down. "When did you—" 

"So where’s Rosie," Kelly said giving the Host an apologetic look for interrupting. 

"Just missed her," Dawn divulged. "Not even half an hour ago, Buffy and Spike came in and whisked her away. They were beginning to doubt that you’d be able to handle her tonight." 

"Oh," Zack muttered before taking a sip. 

"Eww," Xander said. "Zack is that what I think it is?" 

He eyed him annoyingly. "What do you think?" 

"Coffee?" Josh contributed not having any idea what was going on. 

"Maybe some people don’t like the taste," Donna said with a shrug. 

"I can make hot cocoa if you want," Kelly offered the room. Donna, Dawn and Wesley took her up on the offer.

"I thought you liked coffee, Xander," Giles said growing more and more confused by the second. 

"Well…I…never mind." 

"Giles," Zack said, standing up. "Could we maybe talk for a bit?" 

"Of course," he then followed that boy outside. 

"I have something that I need to tell you, but I have to admit that I’m going to be a bit embarrassed to say." 

"Why?" he said removing his glasses and bracing himself for the worst. 

"Because when I was in high school, I took on Mr. Belding as a second father. Then in college, I met Mike and he kinda served that purpose too. Both were great men, but not quite as respectable as my own dad. Then I came to Sunnydale and there was you. You are like my second father. But unlike Belding and Mike, you’re better than my dad. I know you are going to probably get offended with this, but Kelly and I look to you as a father. Admittedly, you’re younger than our parents, but you provide us guidance and you provide that for Rosie as well." 

"Zack," he said taken aback. "I’m honored. Truly I am, but what is your point." 

"I guess that you’re sort of the Scooby Leader. I’m sure that Xander and Willow feel the same way as I do. We all know that Buffy and Dawn do. Hell even Spike though he doesn’t admit it." 

"You’re rambling," He pointed out folding his arms across his chest. "Zack." 

"When you call me Zachary, I think I’m going to die, but you haven’t and well…Hehehehe…dying. But you are like my father, but better than my father. I should call you my first father and my dad second because—" 

"Zachary!" 

"Oh," he stopped cold. He quickly remembered what he was trying to accomplish. "Yeah. I guess I need to just say it. I’m on a liquid diet." 

"You’re…dieting. You brought me out here to say that you’re—" 

Zack shoved the half-full mug in his hand. Giles shrugged and brought the cup to his lips, but threw it across the room. The shattering of the glass caused the blonde man to flinch. 

"You…you mean that…a vampire?" Giles was beyond words. 

All Zack could do was give a simple nod. 

"S-So who?" 

"Spike," he replied sheepishly. Then he felt that defense was in order. "But it wasn’t his idea. Kelly asked him to do it. And she did the only thing that she could think of after trying to save me. Kelly’s strong, but I know she couldn’t make it without me any easier than I could without her. Honestly, she’s my everything Giles." 

"Umm…yes," Giles removed his glasses and began wiping the on the hem of his shirt vigorously. "I-I understand love. I had it once. Then…then Angelus killed her." 

"Yeah," Zack said staring at the floor. "Can kinda understand the whole dislike of fangy creatures thing ya got. I would too. But luckily Willow hardwired me with a handy dandy soul." 

"And…your wound?" 

Zack lifted his shirt to show the faint scar. "Pretty nice if I say so myself," he laughed nervously. "Doesn’t interrupt my six-pack too much, but gives me another identifiable mark." 

"Yes. I have a tattoo or two that have seemed to work that purpose." 

"Really?" Zack smiled. "Where?" 

The Watcher proceeded to show the one on his arm. "Demon ritual," he explained. 

"Did a lot of crazy stuff back in the day, eh?" 

"Well…I experimented a little." 

"You’re telling me you got stoned and summoned demons?" Zack began to giggle. 

The Watcher couldn’t help but exalt a moment of pride for his younger days. He flushed as he said, "It was quite fun, actuality." 

"I have a feeling that you mentioned a possible couple of tattoos. Indeed I do, Rupert. So where else?" 

He met the blond’s mischievous look, but did not give in. "Places you will never see." 

"At least tell me," Zack retorted leaning against the wall. "Me and Kelly have ones that I’ll tell you about." 

"Zachary?" 

"Well right after we decided on Rosie’s name, we went out to dinner. Then as we walked home we saw a tattoo parlor and I suggested that I might get a little rose tattoo to symbolize my love for her. Then Kelly said that she always wanted a little one, but was too scared to try. In the end, we decided that the rose would symbolize our daughter and the beautiful love that we would eternally feel toward one another. I was going to get it on my ankle, but when I saw the needle I wigged. Kelly suggested my butt, but I wasn’t going to let the guy stick it to my ass. So we settled on my lower back. You know, right under the belt line. Kelly got a matching one in the same spot. We felt really silly afterwards and I had cried like a baby, so we decided not to even tell Buffy and Spike. So you can tell about yours." 

"What can I say?" Giles muttered. "I-I really liked the Beatles." 

"Oh," Zack said with an eager nod. He didn’t want to get back on a topic involving him. "Paul’s the best." 

"George is often underrated. People often forget that…. You’re a vampire." 

Zack gulped. "That I am." 

"Th-thank you for informing me about your new state…and distinguishing marks. I r-really need to get back to research now." With that the Watcher headed of in the direction of his bedchambers. 

Zack walked back in the room and over to his wife’s side. "We better go find Rosie. I’m about ready to call it a night." 

*~*~*

"Let’s get you all ready for story time," Buffy suggested to the little girl seated on their bed. "I’ll get you in some PJs while Uncle Spike goes and gets you some juice and cookies." 

"Why?" The little girl countered. 

"Because you like it," Spike said with a grin. 

"Why?" 

"Don’t start that again." 

"Why?" Rosie was giggling uncontrollably now. 

"Buffy," Spike whined. "Make her stop." 

"Why?" Rosie cackled. 

"It’s your fault," Buffy said with a grin. "You started it with her when we were coming back to the room. She asked where her daddy was and you began the ‘why’ business. Payback’s a bitch." 

"Stop it!" Spike said, wagging a finger at the little girl. 

"Why?" 

"The Tickler is back in action," he said reaching for the child and pulling her into his grasp where he began to tickle her breathless. He didn’t even notice presence of people in the vicinity until the door opened and mother and father entered the room. Both were smiling shyly as they embarked on the scene. 

"Hi," Kelly said. "We knocked but I think you were a little indisposed." 

"Just a bit," Buffy said with a grin. "Glad you’re feeling better, Zack." 

"Good as new." 

The room noticed Spike’s reaction to the new presences. He immediately ceased play with the child as he walked off the bed and went into the corner. Zack’s eyes upon him made him act even more out of place. 

"Did I do something?" Rosie asked. "Why?" 

Spike proceeded to walk out the door. Zack reached out to grasp his arm, but he moved a bit too quickly and felt that he should not fight it. A deep and sudden pang of utter depression filled him. "He hates me." 

"He doesn’t," Buffy and Kelly automatically reassured him. 

"Why would Uncle Spike hate Daddy?" Rosie asked, face crumpling. "Is it me?" 

Buffy bit her lip and kneeled before the girl, stomach swarming with natural denial even as she knew that—yes, Rosie was a part of the problem. But not in the way the girl meant. "Of course not, Sweetie," she said soothingly. "And they don’t hate each other. They’re just…things are complicated right now." 

"Why?" the girl demanded, beginning to cry in earnest. "Why are things complimocated? Why can’t everything be okey dokey artichokey?" 

The Slayer glanced to the estranged parents, befuddled with the sudden burden of a motherly question on very unmotherly shoulders. The closest thing to a daughter she had was Dawn, and that was merely for the fact that her own had died when she was twenty years old. She had found herself alone, the single mother of a fifteen year-old ticking time bomb. Joyce had always told her that she would regret her teenage rebellion when she had children of her own. She just hadn’t wagered that day coming so soon. 

She hadn’t wagered a lot of things. 

Buffy glanced up to Zack and knew immediately what he was feeling. The drawn tie to his sire. The same he couldn’t sever if he tried, and couldn’t possibly understand this soon in his vampirehood. If Spike didn’t come off his high and mighty horse soon, he was going to wind up doing more damage. 

Which meant, as the grandsire, she had to intervene. 

Even if the ties denoting her as Spike’s sire were retied to manage their equality. 

She also knew that their inevitable discussion would get nowhere unless Zack knew why Spike was avoiding him. Why he was refusing to own up to his duty as sire. 

He needed to know before they sought each other out. 

"Kelly," Buffy said softly. "Could you…" 

The other woman looked perplexed for a minute, then her eyes widened and she nodded with sudden understanding. Kelly nodded and gathered her daughter in her arms. "Come on, Rosie," she encouraged. "Let’s go see Papa." 

"Papa!" the girl cried enthusiastically. 

Kelly smiled at her daughter’s candor and flashed Buffy a ‘good luck’ look before vacating the room. 

Zack’s eyes narrowed. "I’m about to get lectured, aren’t I?" 

"Why would you say that?" 

"You have Lecture-Face." 

The Slayer smiled softly. "No lecture," she promised. "I just think you need to understand…Spike told me…did you indicate before the entire stabbing incident that you were nothing more to him than his ‘Harris’, as he put it?" 

He shifted uncomfortably at that. "I might have," he confessed. "But I thought…I don’t even…I didn’t mean to say that. Not really. I was just angry. There I was, in the middle of doing something no one—no one—trusted me to do, and suddenly Spike comes in on his white horse to save the day. I figured…someone had to have gone out and gotten him because Lord knows you can’t trust plain old Zack to save his own daughter." 

"No one went out and got us," Buffy replied. "We got in and were going by your room to see if everything was all right. Then Spike caught a whiff of Lecter and saw that there had been a struggle inside, and went all wiggy. He was worried about you, Zack." 

"He should’ve trusted that I could handle it." 

"Without even knowing what had happened?" she demanded skeptically. "Hello! For all he knew, you were dead or something along those lines. He knew something had happened to Rosie and was out of his skin with worry that he was too late to lend a helping hand. Being late’s a big thing for Spike. He still blames himself for my jumping-off-Glory’s-tower." 

Zack mumbled something incoherent and looked away. 

"And, to be fair," Buffy continued, "you were human. Even the strongest humans sometimes can’t…I know I’m not a prime example…I’ve been the Slayer for what feels like forever. When I was fifteen, my days of being just plain ole Buffy left for good. But I’ve seen people at their best and worst. Xander saved the world once, you know? And I know he’s felt like you did more than his fair share of times. There were always vampires, Slayers, witches, and the whatnot to compete with. But that never made him any less of who he was." 

"Look," Zack interjected sharply. "I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, but things are different now. Granted, my jumps-to-conclusions habit isn’t exactly working in my benefit…again…but I think I have grounds. Good grounds, goddammit. Sure. Spike was the vamp and I was his human best friend. I automatically didn’t have every luxury he did. The super-power thing. But even in circumstances that weren’t strength-related, it was almost as though I was the fallback guy. And now he’s my—" 

"Sire. Right." The Slayer nodded. "And he thinks you hate him." 

"What? I don’t hate him! He hates me!" 

"He doesn’t hate you. He loves you. He’ll never say it, of course, but he does." Buffy sighed. "His…his sudden behavior toward you is sort’ve his own way of coming to his understanding of how you’ve felt. He was really upset about what you said…about being his Xander." 

Zack frowned. "He was?" 

"Very. Especially since he sired you. He thought you’d see that as another way for him to exercise power over you." The Slayer smiled sadly. "We talked a lot while…waiting. And I think that your problem with Spike is less and less your role in your friendship, but what you think he’s trying to do as far as your role as father." 

Zack stared at her blankly for a few minutes, then opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, and sighed when he couldn’t find words to support or contest that argument. After a minute, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turned to offer her a sideways expression of wondrous awe, and shook his head. "You are a helluva perceptive woman, Buffy," he said. 

She offered a soft smile. "It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see it," she replied. "And I know and understand why it bothers you. It would bother me if someone tried to do that to my child. But I think you need to understand where he’s coming from. The way he acts around Rosie…it’s not intentional. He’s not trying to steal her away from you." 

"I know that. Really, I know that." 

"And, in the end, I don’t think it’s about Rosie at all." 

His eyes narrowed. "How you figure?" 

"I think it’s about him. He doesn’t think he measures up." The Slayer grinned lightly at his displacement. "Think about it, Zack. You have Rosie, Xander has the Spawn, Giles is like everyone’s father…even Angel, who Spike can’t stand, had a son. I think it makes him feel inferior. Like he’s missing out on something. Like he’s not as good as everyone else because of what he physically can’t accomplish. So he reacts by doting and fathering the closest thing to a daughter he’ll ever have."

"Rosie…" 

"Yep." 

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he frowned lightly and shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "We’ve never…I’ve never said or done anything that would ever make him—" 

"Since when has that been an issue?" Buffy retorted skeptically. "Think about it, Zack. Under his badass personal, Spike’s pretty much a softie all the way around. And he’s old. He’s a lot older than any of us really take into account. He was sired in 1880. There’s so much…I hear myself say it and it doesn’t even click, you know? The guy’s been around since 1854. He says he remembers getting newspapers in London about the Civil War ending. Can you believe that? I remember he was supposed to edit one of Dawnie’s college essays and he jumped all over her case because she listed Stonewall Jackson’s cause of death as gunshots suffered when he faced his own men. Said it was actually a Mahayle demon or something of the same nature. And he can’t stand it that we call it ‘the Civil War’—especially since it’s an oxymoron. And that’s only the beginning, Zack. But that still doesn’t change who he was. He saw the demoralization of an entire generation and—yeah, didn’t care—but he comes from an era where the entire point of existing at all is to make babies and continue the family line." 

"If that’s so, then why didn’t he go through this with Dru?" Zack asked pointedly. "He was with her for the better part of that century. You’d think—" 

Buffy held up a hand, withholding her instinctual grimace that threatened to burn in mention of where her husband spent with last hundred years, and with whom. While she knew that she was the big IT for him, such knowledge left her more than bereft, and all the more anxious to outlast the next dozen or so lifetimes. "He didn’t have us then," she said softly, not needing to elaborate. Zack had seen that coming. He merely wanted to argue the point. "Dru…I don’t know much about their relationship, really. Only that he loved her and was willing to…" Another dark shudder. "He wanted to be with her forever. But it was different, because it wasn’t…they’re relationship had love in it, but it wasn’t founded on love. Or trust. They killed. They fed. They tore families apart for the fun of it. They didn’t have friends or associates. They lived to kill. To feed. To fuck. That was it. What we have…what he is now is so much different. He’s in a normal relationship that survives on both humanistic and vampiric laws. He has friends and family. He’s more in tune to his *William* side than he ever was without being William. Spike wants everything for everyone he cares about. He told me that he told Kelly when she first shared about her pregnancy, she was worried how you would react to it, and he was pissed at the very thought that you wouldn’t be one hundred percent happy. You could do something that he couldn’t." 

"I can’t now." Though he tried to disguise it, there was no way to completely quench the blatant bitterness behind this fact. 

"But you have Rosie. You have this new baby. Spike feels inferior because he can’t have everything. Because he can’t…with me." Buffy trailed off in thought. "He feels like he’s disappointing me or letting me down, but I think even beneath that, he’s disappointed himself. We don’t want kids—we’ve already had this discussion. When all is said and done, Spike and I are very pro the not-having-kidsness of us." She took a step forward and placed an understanding hand on his arm. "Zack, I know you want what’s best for Rosie. And I know you want to be the one she turns to. I especially know that it’s the way it should be. Spike shouldn’t be the first person she runs to. He shouldn’t be the one she listens to when she’s in trouble. And he definitely shouldn’t be the first person everyone thinks of when a good saving’s in order." 

"No," he agreed with a light grin. "As Slayer, I think you’ve earned the rights to that last one." 

Buffy smiled. "He doesn’t do it on purpose, you know." 

"I know." 

"Do you? Do you really?" 

"I…I think I know." Zack sighed. "He loves Rosie very much." 

"He really does." 

"I think at times it’s easy for him to pretend she is his, without having to worry with all the downsides there are to having kids." 

"Spike doesn’t know how to be an uncle. He’s never had any practice. All he knows to do is imitate what you do. And children are never very good at listening to their parents." At that, her brows perked. "Believe me, I know. I not only survived, but practically raised Dawn. They don’t like to listen to authority figures, especially if said figures bear the titles Mom and Dad." 

Zack grinned lightly. "I remember when I was little," he said. "My grandfather was the only one who could ever get me to behave. I was always so scared that I’d upset him or…or something. But he was the only one who could ever get me to stop throwing temper tantrums or to straighten my attitude…it used to make my dad so mad because he couldn’t do it. I never listened to him. But I always listened to my grandpa. Always. I never wanted to disappoint him." 

Buffy smiled. "See? There’s one in every family." 

They took a minute of pleasant repose simply to grin at their similarities before the smile on Zack’s face transcended once more into a frown. "He doesn’t get it, does he?" 

"He didn’t," the Slayer corrected. "We talked about it while you were…away." 

"Dead," Zack retorted with a smirk. 

"That, too." 

"What’d he say?" 

"Again, he’s sure you hate him. That’s the big one." The Slayer took a beat to roll her eyes. "So sure, in fact, that I had to hit him so he’d stop screaming it at the top of his lungs." 

"He really thinks I hate him?" 

"Yep." 

"And I think he hates me?" 

"Yep."

"But he doesn’t hate me?" 

Buffy smiled. They had to be the strangest pair on the face of the planet. "No," she replied softly. "He doesn’t hate you. Anymore than you hate him." 

"But…" 

"You feel rejected, right? Like you’ve done something disappointment worthy, and he’s punishing you?" There was a timid, nearly meek nod, as though he expected to be reprimanded for moving. "That’s not hate, Zack. That’s…that’s something he can’t help. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He wasn’t big on the siring thing when he was an actively killing vampire. And even then…" 

There was no other way to describe it, thus he opted with a nod. "I feel like he’s abandoned me or something." 

"Vampires, as I understand it, either accept or reject their childer as soon as they rise. His refusal to acknowledge you at all is ringing to your demon as a rejection," Buffy explained. "Spike’s your sire, and he hasn’t looked at you and said ‘All right then’ or anything. It’s not because he hates you—never think that. He’s just confused. He can’t look at you because of the guilt…he knows you wouldn’t have wanted it to be him." 

"What do you mean?" 

"To sire him." 

"Of course I…" Zack’s eyes widened. "Oh." 

Buffy nodded when she registered his understanding, glad one of them was finally listening. "Yeah. See? He thinks you hate him." 

"So let me get this straight…" He began slowly. "I think Spike hates me because of what happened and because his demon hasn’t formally ‘accepted’ me, and he doesn’t." 

"Right," the Slayer agreed. 

"And Spike thinks I hate him because he sired me, tied in with what I said before." 

"Right." 

A long sigh coursed through the newly risen. "We’re dumb," he decided. 

Buffy only grinned. There was nothing else. "To say the least." 

*~*~*

"Y’know…" Spike drawled as he strolled up to the pair of lawn ornaments tied up on the castle grounds, "I can’t decide which one of you sods I hate the most. On one hand, we have the poofter that had to force it to a girl to get laid…" He arched a pointed look in Slater’s direction. 

"Just did what you couldn’t," the mullet-haired man replied. "Mate." 

There was no ceremony behind his response. Spike simply snarled and slugged him. He grinned evilly when his non-chip did exactly what it was supposed to do—nothing. 

"On the other hand," he continued, moving toward Lecter. "We have the wanker who cost my best friend his life, his unlife, his fertility, his reflection, and all that rot in between." He paused thoughtfully. "Never mind, Johnny. We have a winner. Sod the rest, I know which one I hate the most." He prowled forward with intent and withdrew the infamous cannibal’s equally infamous Harpy and twirled it between his fingers as though it were a baton. He grinned at the puzzlement on the old man’s face. "Think ‘d do you in like this? Chained up like a pig waiting to be cooked? I’m William the Fucking Bloody—and I never turn down a good brawl." He tossed the newly liberated psychopath his favored weapon and arched his brows tellingly. "Come on then, mate. Let’s give it a go." 

Dr. Lecter arched a brow and glanced down to the weapon that now lay in his grasp, innocently awaiting his arm. Services rendered completely at his disposal. "You do you realize that providing me with a weapon impairs your chance of survival by quite a bit." 

"You think so?" 

"If you underestimate me, you’ll find this will be over quite sooner than you think." 

"Right. With that thing?" Spike nodded at the Harpy skeptically. "You’d think that aligning yourself up with Wolfram and Hart, you’d know what you can and can’t use against vamps. ‘Specially since your colleagues are of the undead nature." 

"I do not believe in vampires," Lecter returned coldly. 

Both Slater and Spike looked at him as though he had sprouted another head. 

And that the other head had started singing Broadway show tunes. 

"You’re at bloody Hogwarts!" Spike cried. "HOGWARTS! You lined yourself up with three of the most notorious vamps in the world, not counting yours truly, and work for a sodding Dumbledore look-alike, and maintain that you don’t believe in VAMPIRES? You’re daft. Completely off your bird. Cor, if I ever saw case where ignorance killed, this’d be it." 

"He’s got you there," Slater reluctantly conceded. "You are being an idiot. Even I know that." 

"See!" Spike gestured emphatically to his Least Favorite Person Number Two. "Even Special Ed gets it. Right, you lousy sod. Whatever. Go fetch yourself a stake. We’re doing this right and proper. I run from no bloody fight." 

"You expect me to…" Dr. Lecter’s face contorted as though he had swallowed something sour. "Rassle you?" 

"Please, mate." Spike brought his hands up with a note of sarcasm. "Happily married." 

"You are undoubtedly the most idiotic buffoon I have had the intense displeasure of meeting over the years." 

"Aw. I’m touched, really. Can we get on with it? Or should I skip right to the ‘me killing you’?" 

"I will not degrade myself to such crude means to an end. You are not worth that much esteem." 

Spike blinked. "You coulda just said ‘yes’, you know. Hell, I’m the sodding writer and I know that less is more. Well, if that’s the way it’s gonna be…y’can’t complain that I didn’t give you a fair shot." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Gonna do this right." Without ceremony, Spike burst into game face, yellow eyes glimmering maliciously. "Hello. My name is William the Bloody. You killed my best friend. Prepare to die." 

"Actually," Slater interceded just as Spike was about to leap at his prey, "the way I hear it, the Doc here just stuck it to Zack. You’re the one that offed him." 

The Cockney snarled and pivoted to glare at him. "Running commentary is not appreciated," he snipped. 

"But it’s oh so much fun." 

"’S not too late to change my mind over who I wanna kill, y’know." 

"You wouldn’t," Slater singsonged smugly. "That’d stir the waters with Preppy. I figure killing me is his territory. You don’t wanna step on any more toes, do you?" 

"How the bloody hell do you even know about that?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Word does get out." 

"Uh huh." 

"And I am connected to the Ultimate Evil." 

Spike frowned. "I know this one. Wal-Mart?" It took a second more before he understood. "Oh, so it’s this you, fessing up? Wolfram and Hart mojo’ed you back, didn’t they? I bloody well knew it. That and my loop of an ex, as well as dear old grandmum. God, someone up there has a mightily fucked up sense of humor. Well, mate…gotta hand it to yeah. As much as I would love to twist your head till it pops, it seems I got me a prior engagement." 

As if to solidify this fact, Spike found his gut suddenly harboring a blade-ful of Harpy. He glanced down awkwardly but made no move to express any form of pain. With a quirked brow, he glanced upward and tilted his head curiously at the doctor. "’S that it, then? Right. I got more where that came from. Prepare to be dinner, you old sod." 

"That’s sort of ironic," Slater chimed in behind him. "The cannibal will be dinner. Hah!" 

Spike rolled his eyes, jaw clenching. "Urge to kill rising…rising…" His gaze settled fatally on the doctor. "Luckily, I got me a volunteer to help with that little problem right here in the front of the line. Step on up, mate. You’re the next contestant on—" 

"NO!" 

The cry came from none of the men standing—or, in some cases, dangling—off the Hogwarts grounds. Instead, Spike bristled and demanded the Heavens, "What now?" before all eyes turned to see a frantic Clarice racing toward them at full speed. 

"Oh, of course," Spike drawled. "Now she cares." 

"Don’t kill him!" 

"I am touched by your concern, my dear," Lecter informed her, "but I do not believe myself to be in any real danger." 

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Zip it, Hannibal. He’s a vampire, and he’s survived worse than you." Off his astonished gaze, she turned to Spike. "Please don’t kill him. I know he did a bad thing, but I…he…he’s my…" 

"Right touching this is," he sneered in reply. "And if you haden’t been so vocal in your position as Angelus’s whore up until a couple days ago, I might find it within me to care. As it is, I think you’re just trying to save yourself a fuckbuddy." 

"Dude, you screwed that old-timer?" Slater looked about ready to gag. "That’s nasty." 

"We haven’t been together for a while," Clarice grumbled. "And as it was, we were only with each other that one night."

"I’m touched you remember at all," Dr. Lecter observed. 

"Yeah." Spike nodded in Slater’s direction. "After offing you and getting her some old man action, she switched off and shagged the goodness right outta my former grandsire. Isn’t this lovely? Always wanted to reminisce right before killing a bloody useless wanker. There. I can cross it off my list of things to do before my next three hundred years are over. Yap bloody yap. Let’s get this over and done with. I have a right mind to get myself properly snookered before the night is through." 

"And you believe he," Lecter said to Clarice, pointing at Spike incredulously, "poses a threat to my continued existence." 

"Why can’t you just say ‘you think he’s gonna kill me’?" the vampire demanded hotly. "God, you fucking prat. You sit all high and sodding mighty, thinking that your little riddles are fooling everyone. All they do is make you come off as more of a wanker than we already knew you were. What were you, inbred?" He chuckled richly. "That’s it. I’m through. Came out here to blow a little steam against the prat who was making my life more a living hell than usual, and suddenly everyone is in touch with their feminine side." Sharply, he pivoted to Starling. "You think I care about your sodding touchy feelies?! if Angelus haden’t been shoving his cock up some other bint’s arse, you wouldn’t give two flying fucks, would you?" 

"That is no way to address a lady," Lecter informed him. 

Spike rolled his eyes and turned back to the doctor. "Y’know what? You’re not even worth draining. As I once pointed out, I’m a veal kinda guy. You’re too old to eat." The growl rumbling through his throat intensified. "But not to kill." 

"Intimidating. And I’m not just saying that." 

"I think everyone is overlooking the bigger issue here!" Slater called from behind them. "Hello! It doesn’t matter if you did fuck him or what. The point is you want to fuck him. Sweetheart, you can see him, can’t you?" 

"Fucking rot." Spike shook his head and turned to Starling once more. "Listen, pet. Angelus is gone. Red worked her mojo and ‘e’s all soul-having again. I’m not sure what that means for you two lovebirds, but I do know he isn’t interested in dear ole Darla anymore. So if I may…" He gestured to Lecter. 

The prospect seemed to be the only incentive that Clarice needed. In seconds, her eyes had lighted up with more fervor and life she had ever showed prior to her death, and she nodded hastily before turning to flee once more toward the castle. 

"Excellent. Now we’re getting somewhere." Without ceremony, Spike leapt toward the dumbfound doctor, grabbed his head, and rendered him a lifeless heap at his feet with one solid twist. The still cracking that sounded through the night air was music to his ears. Two human lives in one day. It was safe to assume he had fallen off the wagon completely. 

Only he hadn’t. This wasn’t about anything other than closure. A meeting of lasting malice. Lecter had taken everything from him in such a short amount of time. 

"Uh oh," Slater cooed from his perch. "Something tells me the missus isn’t going to be happy with that." 

"The missus knows what I am," Spike growled. "An’—more importantly—what she is. She knew what I was doing. She’s known ever since I stepped out here. She can bloody well feel me, and know what I’m feeling. Since she didn’t come running out here to stop me, I’m gonna take it as her sodding blessing. And unless you look to join your pal there, I’d suggest you bugger the bloody hell off." He began to wobble back for the castle. "’S time I got myself properly pissed." 

He turned and left Slater then without a conclusive note, the Harpy still protruding proudly from his belly. It wasn’t until he was within the castle that he slumped with a gasp against the wall. Closing his eyes tightly, his hand grasped the handle and began pulling. 

"Note to self," he said through gritted teeth. "Never hand a madman a knife. It’s not smart." 

It didn’t take his ultra-perceptive sensory to detect his wife near. Spike wagered he would feel her even if all connection were cut off completely. He heard the little breathy gasp she indulged at the sight of him and tried to smile disarmingly at her concern. 

"Good lord," she gasped, hand enclosing over his wrist as he tried to pull at the blade. "What are you doing?" 

"Playing football," Spike retorted. 

"What?" 

"The Doc got a nasty piece outta me. S’okay, though. He’s nice and dead." 

Buffy’s brows perked. "You killed him?" 

Okay, so he had been lying outside. Guessing that the Slayer knew what he was up to was exactly that—a guess. Spike hadn’t the faintest idea whether or not she was okay with the idea of him killing again, even if the victim was one of the self-noted Big Bads. Truth be told, he hadn’t given much of his action that much thought. All he knew was that it needed to be done: bugger the consequences. 

"Yeah," he retorted. "I killed the hell outta him. Gotta problem with that?" 

For a minute, despite his casual negligence, Spike felt everything stop. If she did, they were in deeper trouble than he could even begin to fathom, much less survive. He was so tired of walking on eggshells around everyone. One minute she said she wanted to be a vampire, the next it looked she was about to start preaching a bunch of the ‘that’s wrong’ mumbo jumbo. With everything else that was floating about—his problems with Zangy, his over-bearing fatherly act toward Rosie, and everything of the like—playing another mind game with his wife was the very least of his worries. 

It was her smile that threw him off. "You think I have a problem with it?" Buffy replied softly. "Spike, I told you…I’m doing this one hundred percent all the way. Now, I don’t want you to go off and kill everyone you makes you angry, but I understand that you have grounds. Good grounds." 

At that, he softened, feeling like a great big git. Of course. "Buff—" 

"I know, I know. Reformed. You wouldn’t do that." 

"No, I was gonna apologize. I’m just…" he sighed. "Guess I’m in a bit of a snit is all. This entire thing…" 

"I know." She leaned in to kiss him in nearly chaste reassurance. "Have you talked to Zack?" 

"No…why?" 

"He’s looking for you." 

Spike sighed. "Stake me good and proper, I’m guessing." 

"He doesn’t hate you." 

"Yeah. I just sired him. Sing me another one." 

Buffy grinned. "Okay… ‘He really, really doesn’t hate you." 

At that, he grinned. He couldn’t help it. "Love—"

"And if you would just talk to him, he’d know it." 

"I will. I’ll talk to him…" Spike sighed painfully. "Once ‘ve gotten myself properly sloshed. Here, be a pet and help a bloke out…" He gestured to the Harpy still embedded in his skin. Tentatively, Buffy kneeled before him and gently tugged the blood-soaked blade from her husband’s abdomen, frowning and leaning inward to lick the red goodness from his body. Several minutes passed before she released him—loving the taste so much that she felt obligated to stay down there until his flesh was blood free. 

"Mmmm…" the Slayer cooed. "That’s yummy." 

Spike grinned at her. "If you feel particularly obligated to do anything else while you’re down there, be my guest." 

"Evil," she scolded, climbing to her feet. 

He winked. "Always." 

"You really need to talk to Zack." 

"No, I really need to get drunk. Talking comes after much alcohol." He sighed and started up the hall. "Want to come?" 

"Spike—" 

"There’ll be talking, I promise. I just really…" His head drooped pitifully. "Buffy, it’s just been such a bloody awful week. Please, just let me drink it away." 

"I know, sweetheart." She kissed him again. "I just hate…seeing you two like this." 

"Well, I hate being like this." Spike turned to make his way up the hall. "Be a dear and remind me next time not to hand some wanker with a penchant for knives a nice, long blade, hmm? One of those instances where my not-so-bright side came through." 

"You gave Lecter a knife?" 

"Yeah. Some daft notion ‘bout a fair fight. Smarts like a bitch, and not in the good way." He turned to smile at her fondly. "Speaking of which, have I told you how much I love you today?" 

"At least not for a half hour," she assured him. 

"I do, you know." 

"I love you, too." Buffy smiled warmly. "That’s why I want you to talk to Zack. This…this not being his friend is hurting you. And I can’t stand to see you hurt." 

"Again with the knives and madmen," Spike drawled. "All right, baby. You need me—" 

"You’ll be getting pissed. I know." 

"Better be ready when I get in t’night. Y’know I’m a horny drunk." 

"You’re a horny-anything," she retorted. 

"Yeah. But we’re better not to waste it." 

"Do you want me to help you to the bar?" 

The notion made him grin, and he had no idea why. For whatever reason, the thought of his wife helping him, stabbed and bleeding, to a pub so he could get himself properly drunk rang as ironically hilarious. She was a fucking goddess, and damned if he didn’t tell her everyday. How was it that he got so lucky? His woman made sure he got his drinks. 

"No, pet. I’ll manage." He grinned, hobbled over to her again, and kissed her properly. "But I appreciate the offer." 

She smiled back at him. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it." 

"I won’t." 

"I’m just bribing you so you’ll talk to Zack." 

"I know." 

"I love you." 

He paused and smiled. "Know that, too." 

"Good. Talk to him!" 

"I will, pet. I promise." He nodded in the aforementioned direction. "If you run across him, tell him to come find his Pap. We gotta do a bit of the old father/son bonding." 

Her eyes narrowed. "Spike…" 

"I know, I know." He turned again, closed his eyes and smiled wistfully. "Margarita-ville, here I bloody come." 

*~*~*

"Papa!" Rosie said running in ahead of her mother into the library. She quickly scanned the room as Kelly looked apologetically to the room of researchers. "He’s not here," she pouted. 

"I thought Zack was with you?" Xander said in confusion. 

"Not her Daddy," Kelly said taking the child by the hand and leading them to the main table. "Her Papa." 

"Please don’t tell me that’s a new Spike nickname," Anya said in disgust. "Because that’s going to screw the kid up even more." 

Kelly rolled her eyes as she picked up a book. "No. He’s Uncle Spike. Zack and I were going to try and downsize the calling of him Papa, but currently that seems the least of our problems. Besides, calling them special names helps for her to feel like she’s more secure." 

"Who’s Papa?" Xander asked. "And can I be him?" 

"No," Rosie snapped. "You’re my Uncle Xander." 

"But what if he refuses the name Papa?" 

"You’re fighting with my four year old," Kelly said with a smirk as she opened the book and began to read. 

"Who is Papa?" 

"Xander," Cordelia said throwing him a dirty look. "Shut up." 

Rosie giggled. "You silly Uncle Xander." 

"At least I got promoted to uncle," he sighed. 

"Have we found out anymore?" Kelly asked. 

"Just that if anyone else asks Donna what Lecter said to her, she screams," Josh chuckled. 

"Yes," Wesley said slowly rubbing his temple. "That was discovered." 

"Anything else?" 

As soon as the words were said, the doors burst open and Giles walked in followed closely by Angel. "Leave me alone," the Watcher grumbled throwing his hands in the air. 

"Honestly, Giles," Angel pleaded. "I can help—" 

"I don’t know if I rightly trust you at the current time. Things have been so chaotic that I believe I might stick with what I know. I know that I don’t trust you." 

"But—"

"I’m afraid Angel that at current times we just aren’t sure if you are alright. You have been Angelus for so long and we know that Angelus made a lot of powerful pacts with Wolfram and Hart," Wesley explained as he walked over to the brooding vampire. "We appreciate the effort if it is really done with good intentions, but currently we cannot fully trust you until this Voldemort issue is settled." 

"But you see you can’t!" Angel snapped. "It’s too late!" 

"Go away!" Rosie shouted. "Rotten Peaches!" 

"No," Kelly said taking her daughter by the arm. "Don’t talk like that. And it’s ‘rot Peaches’ not ‘rotten Peaches’." 

"Oh," Rosie said not understanding the difference. But seconds later, she belted out, "Rot Peaches!" 

Angel had already come to adore the child, but currently he sent her an angered glance since she did no good at helping him with his case, causing the girl to whimper and cling to her mother’s arm. Unfortunately the one person he thought would not care did. 

"Get out," Giles growled lowly causing the vampire’s eyes to go slightly wide. He understood now that the Watcher meant business. 

Angel rolled his eyes at his incredible string of bad luck. "You know I wouldn’t hurt her. In fact I like her when she isn’t acting like mini-Spike, but—" 

"Get the bloody hell out," Giles said rolling up his sleeves and taking a threatening step forward. 

Angel knew that it was a hopeless cause. He intimidated the little girl and he knew she was the keystone to the big players in this fight. He sighed, nodded and walked out. As the door shut, the room heard Clarice bounding toward him. 

"Is it not worth checking out?" Cordy pondered. 

"Our list of people we can trust is growing steadily thin," Willow pointed out. 

"Where is the wizarding bunch?" Xander asked. 

"They are working on things in Dumbledore’s office. They were finding things a bit hectic out here…that and Snape doesn’t like working with vampires." 

"So," Josh said furrowing his brow. "We have two evil vampires and one in question that we don’t trust." 

"Three," Anya pointed out. "Unless we’ve started trusting Zack’s cousin who likes her orgasms from old men who likes to eat people." 

"Ahn!" Xander growled pointing to Rosie who was no longer paying attention to anyone but staring at Giles as he leaned up against the door. 

"Three," Kelly agreed with a nod figuring that there was no point in trying to reprimand the vengeance demon. "Then we have Ferris Bueller. That means that Slone and Cameron are out by association." 

"I don’t believe anyone who dresses like that while talking to a dog should be trusted at all," Lorne said with a firm nod. 

"Let’s not forget the two lawn decorations," Dawn added. 

"Just one," Buffy said walking in. 

"What?" Everyone questioned. 

"Lecter isn’t an issue," She motioned for her sister to take Rosie for a moment. As soon as the door closed she stated simply. "He’s dead." 

"How?" This was from Wesley. 

"Spike." 

Giles leaned his head against the door as Cordy began talking. "Then maybe we should add another vampire to the list. Killing humans even when they do kidnappings." 

"No!" Buffy, Kelly, Giles, Xander and even Anya said in exasperation. 

Kelly went on, "He…killed my husband." 

"But Zack was just here," Wesley said slowly. 

Lorne looked in slight confusion. "That would mean that—" 

"He’s a vampire." Giles stated. 

"Spike," Wesley said. 

"I did it." Kelly then shook her head. "I mean that I asked him to." 

"If you did it then it would really have spiced things up a bit," Anya said with a smirk. 

There was an awkward silence that lasted several minutes. No one was sure what to say but questions were in the air. Kelly couldn’t stand it and spoke up again. "We don’t know what we’ll do next, but it’ll be decided after the baby. Please don’t tell my daughter before her father and I can set her down and explain. All I know is it’ll be decided after the baby and there is no regrets." 

Giles knew her decision even if Buffy didn’t see it yet. She made up her mind the second her husband awoke. He closed his eyes and braced himself before walking out once more. 

*~*~*

Zack could get used to this whole vampire thing. He enjoyed the fact that if he concentrated, he knew exactly where his wife and Rosie were. He was also glad that he could easily track down Spike. "He’s drunk," he muttered to himself. He didn’t have that good of powers but he knew his best friend well. He hadn’t been sloshed enough for a trip this stressful. 

He walked into the room and confirmed his suspicion. The Cockney looked up at him with a lazy grin as he placed an empty glass on the table of the Great Hall. "Came to stake your ole Pap now did ya?" 

Zack arched a brow and shut the door behind him. "What do you think?" Before he could answer he provided one of his own. "No. But we do need to talk." 

"Slayer found you, didn’t she? Her and all her talking mumbo jumbo." 

"I think that’s the goals of every woman I’ve met," Zack walked slowly closer. "I don’t hate you." He figured they better cover that ground before getting on to more sticky matters. 

"Why?" Spike said seconds before tossing down another shot. 

"Tequila?" Zack picking up the bottle. 

"Put it down," Spike growled. Zack couldn’t understand why, but he immediately complied. 

Then he remembered. "Bloody hell," he grumbled. "You better tell me you don’t hate me quick before I decide to knock your smug ass off that chair." 

Spike didn’t realize what he did until he saw Zack respond. The seriousness of the request made it impossible for his childe to resist. He sat back smugly in his chair as he cradled the tequila to his chest. "I don’t hate you," he said with a proud grin. 

"Good," Zack said taking a seat across from him. "I think we should talk a bit though. Are you sober enough?" 

"I don’t get sloshed, Zangy. You know that." 

Zack rolled his eyes. "It’s OK. Just you and me. Sober enough?" 

"Yeah. The last couple haven’ gotten to me yet. Make it quick." 

Zack sighed. He motioned for the bottle with his hand. When Spike cast a dirty look, Zack eyes told him that he would get it back. He reluctantly conceded. Then he added with a grin. "If you don’t give back, Pap can make you." 

"Shove it." 

"That’s not good manner for speaking to you elders. No childe of mine is going—" 

"Bloody," he growled. "If need be, I’ll give the tequila back and we can do this later." 

"You aren’t drinking?" For the first time since hearing the newly risen vampire say that he didn’t hate him, he didn’t smile. 

"I want to make sure that it gets said. I know you’re still sober enough to remember, but when we both start in, we won’t say what needs to be." 

"Fine." Spike understood the logic and admired him for it. They both knew that this wasn’t going to be pretty and that it would be best to discuss when his inhibitions were down a few notches. 

Zack unfastened the top off the tequila and played with the cap in his hands. "I don’t resent you for the siring." He decided that the direct approach with Spike might work better than the subtle one did with Giles. "I actually…thank you." 

"It isn’t all milk’n cookies. You know that." 

"Yeah, but you didn’t have to. Even if you wanted to, I know you wouldn’t have without Kelly’s request." 

"Little bird wasn’t quite ready for the big goodbye." None of them were, but it was easiest to assume it all on the woman. 

Zack nodded understanding no need to go down that road. "But it sucks about the whole reflection thing." 

"You get used to it," Spike said with a shrug. "The daylight’ll be a bit more of the tricky. ‘Specially when we get the Bit in school." 

That led Zack right where he was hoping to go. But he had one more thing to say before. "If my hair gets all poofy like Peaches, you’ll—" 

The platinum vampire waved a hand in the air as he chuckled. "I would never do that to you." He then added. "There might be one time. But even then, I would never let you go in public." 

That satisfied Zack so he gave a smile before dropping back to a serious face. "We have another issue." 

"Blood isn’t that bad. Use the Weetabix I tell you. Your Pap can attest that it helps with the texture." He shrugged and added. "And can even help in the nummy factor depending on the day." 

"Not that." But Zack did make mental note to have the missus start picking up extra boxes. "Rosie." 

"She likes Weetabix too." Spike said standing up and walking over to the piano. 

"I know. Not that…I think you know where I’m going." 

Spike wheeled around and met the man’s gaze. "What do you want me to say, Zangy? Sorry ‘bout stepping on your toes? Sorry I don’t know how to be an uncle? Sorry that I can’t have kids?" 

"I’m sorry that I can’t have kids," Zack said trying to evoke a second of comedy relief. He didn’t even amuse himself. "No, Spike." 

"I can go on. I can tell you that I’m sorry that you were feeling all inferior." 

"I was human…and jealous." 

"Of me?" That caught him off guard. 

"Well, yeah. I know you being the Big Bad was not of the good, but I have to admit that at times I was even awed by your wicked side. I have to also include the fact that I was also really sickened, but impressed sadly all the same." 

"Really?" This was ever so slowly boosting his ego. His son liked him. He tried to hide the smile. 

Zack rolled his eyes. He saw the smile trying to be hid. But he stroked the man’s ego some more. "That and I got a little jealous when I thought about the fact that you could save my wife and daughter better than I could. Hell…you save me better than I could." 

"I distracted you," Spike pointed out. 

Zack shook his head. "I knew death was going to happen before I even stepped in the room. Kelly did too. We just assumed it wouldn’t be me. Me and my assumptions were incorrect once again." 

"Please," the platinum vampire snorted. "You have taken on worse than a sodding old cannibal." 

Zack had to agree when he thought about all the demons he had battled since coming to Sunnydale. "It wasn’t your fault," he said softly. "In fact. You saved me. We both know that if you hadn’t tracked me down, I would be dead." 

"That might not’ve—" 

"Spike. If he takes a chunk out of your gut, you git, what makes you think that I would do any better?" 

"You saw?" 

"I watched you kill him," he said lowly. "I watched from the castle. And thank you." 

Spike’s eyes grew wide. He did it for Zack, but he didn’t really expect that gratitude. 

"I couldn’t do it," Zack admitted. "I don’t think I could face him again without…" 

His demon. Spike understood. Zangy was newly risen and brought in with a soul. Tapping into that new inner darkness was going to be almost as tough as Buffy. Not quite. He smirked. My boy takes after his Pap more’n he’d like to admit. 

Zack noticed the smirk but he figured he was talking about himself again. He went on. "We’re off topic." 

"Oh. Talk to Pap." 

Zack sighed. "Pap. I’m sorry for getting all whiney right there in the end. I was getting a little…harsh." 

"Who put the Harris complex in your presumptuous cranium? I’ll bite ‘em." 

Zack arched his brows. "I did." He said almost as a challenge. "And remember before you come over here chomping down, Pap, that I can bite back too." 

"We aren’ going to start biting," Spike said with a shudder. "And there will be no challenging either." 

"Does it get all…sexual? Could we do it without the sex?" 

"I’m not going to let you beat me, no matter how much I like you. And it’ll be many a year if ever ifore you can make a good run. The soulful part’ll be a bitch too. And I’m not going for equality either. It involves the sex." 

"Oh," Zack said a bit sadly. 

"I don’t wanna make you feel all less of a vamp. You aren’. You aren’ better than me. Just a little younger is all." 

"So what are we?" 

"Vampires? Men? Friends? Sire/childe? Pap/son? What you going for, Zangy?" 

"Are we…kinda equals?" Zack shook his head. "Never mind." 

"You won’t feel like a lesser." Spike was sure of that. "I won’t use my power over you. And we’ll fight together." 

That seemed to satisfy Zack. He thought about Buffy’s words on the society of Spike’s day. Then he simply thought again of Spike’s age. He couldn’t ask for a sweeter deal than what’s on the table. He knew that Spike would always be a better vampire than him. He couldn’t possibly think otherwise and he couldn’t possibly care. He was in the Order of Aurelius. He’d be the most fucking pathetic wanker if that bothered him. As for the mastership issue, he was also comforted with the truth that Spike wouldn’t use it against him. Unless he felt he needed to; really believed that lives were in stake. Or he simply found it to be funny. "You will." 

"What? The power thing?" He shrugged. "Maybe if I’m drunk." 

"Then I’d be drunk too." 

"Then my orders would be funnier and your execution of 'em would be bloody hilarious." 

This was going to come back to bite him in the ass. He could already feel he was going to have a few stories he’d like to forget in to morning. 

"Did we get to Rosie?" Spike’s head was swimming, but he knew that she was a topic of debate. 

"Kinda," Zack looked down to see that he was still playing with the tequila lid. "It’s like me and my grandpa." 

"Elaboration needed unless you’re making reference to me being her grandpap." 

The blonde man snickered. "I looked up to him like she looks up to you." They both laughed. "I know. You a role model is a bit funny." 

"Hey!" He was chuckling though. 

Zack decided to move on. "What I’m trying to say is that I don’t resent you for being so good to her. That would be rightly wankerish. And I now understand that it’s just something that happens when you’re a dad. You have to accept that the name Dad means that your coolness goes down a notch. No matter if I was competing with William the Best Sodding Uncle in the World Bloody." 

"Really?" Spike was touched a bit. "Best Sodding Uncle?" 

"As much as I sadly see parallels between me and Xander, fathers of spawns get disqualified. And you buy her things. And make her mind." 

"But, you don’t feel like your toes are being—" 

Zack held up a hand for silence. "I did. I admit. I knew you didn’t do it on purpose. At least I told myself. But then I began to realize even before Buffy and I talked, that you don’t know shit about being an uncle." 

"But you just said that I’m the best in the sodding world!" 

"Hell, if my uncles bought me as much stuff and played with me like you did, well…I don’t know. It would’ve been pretty damn nice though. What I’m saying, or rather your wife said and I really liked how it sounded, is that you kinda are just following my lead and taking what you know of kids and putting it together." 

Spike arched a brow. "You just like the thought if me looking to you." 

Zack’s eyes gave him a ‘well-duh-you-stupid-git’ look. He nodded. "It gives me a little comfort." 

Spike snorted. "If it helps you sleep at night to know I’m not all knowing then be my guest." 

It was Zack’s turn to snort. "That isn’t what gets me to sleep. And trust me, I know. What I mean is that…sometimes I doubt how good of a father I am." 

"You treat her damn good." He wasn’t just boosting the man’s pride either. He saw plain as day how quickly Zack was willing to sacrifice his life and pride for a simple smile out of that girl. He knew that one of the main reasons Zack didn’t even take a ‘normal’ job was so that he could be there for her like Derek Morris never was for him. 

"Did we settle our issue?" Zack asked. "We seem to be on a me track now. Are we good?" 

"You’re asking your drunk old man?" 

"You’re still on the verge of sobriety." 

"I’m on the verge of sloshed, Zangy. But yeah. I think we’re good." 

Zack sighed in relief as he grabbed the tequila bottle and chugged a couple of shots down right then and there. He then slammed the bottle back down on the table and wiped his mouth. "I needed that before I got in here." 

Spike took the bottle back assuming that he could finish when he started. Before he took a shot he stated. "You’re better than him." 

"Derek?" Zack asked sinking down in his chair as he felt the alcohol swim toward his head. "He didn’t treat me too bad." 

"’Cept when he wanted you to be just like him and not marry your love." 

"He did change his mind," Zack pointed out looking around the room for more alcohol. He knew they couldn’t share a bottle for long. 

"Just ‘cause he realized you beat him. You say he still doesn’t treat Kelly like you want him too." 

"Kelly’s parents are a bit poor and a bit…pains in the ass," He said getting up and snatched another tequila bottle that he was sure that Spike had brought. 

"He took her sodding prom money the second he got laid off. Something ‘bout the whole insensitivity of the bastard toward his girl’s happiness rubs me wrong." 

"He still does that." He tossed back a mouthful of amber liquid. "That first Christmas." Spike knew he was referring to their first Christmas with Rosie and the last time they really saw their families together. "He says that him and Carol didn’t get Rosie much ‘cause his hours were cut back. I don’t mind, but I simply ask if he’d mind if I didn’t take a gift so he could spend it on her. In some alternate universe it might have sounded like, ‘Don’t get me nothing and Frank and don’t spend nothing on Rosie either’." 

"You mean—" 

"He bought her some stuff, but I was a little disappointed is all. I know that it’s the thought that counts, but when it looks like he spent a whole ten bucks I was a little miffed. The first born grandchild couldn’t even have gotten a twenty buck teddy bear?" 

"What did he say?" 

"That she won’t remember the first Christmas anyways." 

"Let’s go hurt him." 

"I hope I got him back though," Zack said smugly.

"How?" 

"Kelly was always making scrap books so I made Rosie one that has a list of what all she gets every Christmas and birthday. I figure I’ll keep it up for the next few years. That way she can be pissed with him when she’s a teenager." 

Spike had to grin. "That’s my boy." 

"Cheers to that." Their tequila bottles clanked merrily as they went about their drinking. 


	25. Chapter 25

"I can’t take much more of this," Josh said flopping down on his bed. "If being around these people didn’t make me crazy enough, the enchanted castle and cabin fever are doing the trick." 

"You never kiss me in DC," Donna reflected sitting in his chair. 

"That’s because they’d see us." A perfectly good explanation in his mind. 

"In fact, we weren’t even romantic before we got here. It’s like…we get all crazy around them." 

"Well if the shoe fits." Josh had no explanation. He hadn’t even thought about it. That was what Donna was for.

"We were all coy and awkward when it got close to romantic us, but we get here and you’re jumping me." 

"Hey! I did not!" His squeaked. When he saw her roll her eyes, he added. "But by chance I did, did you enjoy it?" 

She blushed but nodded. "What I’m saying is that…what are we doing?" 

"Well I believe that we are talking. You might also consider that we are sitting in my room." He stopped after that. "Talking." That sounded best. 

"Josh," she pouted puffing out her lip in the way he adored. "You know what I mean." 

"We can’t… Not until the White House is over. With as much trouble as I seem to cause with Leo and the Hill, this might just give him good incentive to give me the boot." 

"He wouldn’t boot you." Josh gave her a look. "Fine, he might." 

"When Bartlet’s out then…we can…you know." 

"No I don’t," she said emphatically. "Will we date? Will we talk? Will you sleep with me? Will you—" 

He walked over to her when she began her tirade. Now he gently grabbed her wrists and pulled her up to face him. When there, he promptly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Minutes passed before he pulled away. "There will be talking, dating, sleeping and possibly even sex. If you’re lucky." 

"Me? Who jumped who might I ask?" 

"As I remember you liked any jumping I did and I’m not even thoroughly convinced that you didn’t initiate said jumping." 

"How would I?" She said pulling closer. 

"That is initiating," he said wrapping his arms around her tighter. "Also glances and innuendos. Then you might have done the actual jump. Honestly, I can’t remember." 

Donna couldn’t either at the moment. "But what do we do for the next few years." 

"Denial I have found can be a very useful strategy." 

"Joshua!" 

"Donna," he sighed. "That was my witty way of saying I have no clue. Though I think that the denial thing might work for a—" 

This time she kissed him. He groaned as he pulled her tighter. "Maybe not," he murmured as their lips remained pressed together. 

Several more minutes went by, but both refused to walk toward the bed no matter how much desire was calling them to. "Josh," she whimpered as he broke the kiss. Her eyes still closed. 

He smiled. "I know. This isn’t going to work. But I’m greedy. I don’t want to lose assistant Donna or hot kissing and jumping me Donna." 

Her gaze not only opened but narrowed with the last remark. "I didn’t jump you." 

"Details. But, I don’t know how we’d make this work." 

"Can we?" She asked with all playful teasing aside. 

"I don’t think we could be that romantic when we go back to Washington. We couldn’t do much weekends over at each others apartments either. I think it would get obvious and out of control quick." 

"Out of control?" Donna questioned as she sat on the edge of the bed. 

He understood that she wasn’t trying to be sexy with her contemplating face on as she searched for a solution, but he couldn’t help it. She was on his bed. He wasn’t going to get any, but it was nice to think of. "Yeah. You’re like a Pringle. One I pop, I don’t think I’d stop. I’m having you on my desk in three weeks." 

Her eyes grew wide. Josh Lyman just spoke about their relationship. And he spoke of it in an intimate, though cheesy, manner that touched her more than he expected. 

"Did I just say that out loud?" He said sinking next to her. When she nodded he said, "You told me to work on that." 

"I’m a salty flavored chip?" She didn’t know why she found it appealing but she did. 

"Yup. Apparently so. Though I prefer Doritos myself." 

"I want to be a Dorito. Nacho cheese." 

"Why?" He took the bait. 

"Because they’re your favorite and when you eat them you always have to lick all the cheesy stuff off your fingers." 

Josh’s eyes went wide. "Did you just mean to say that? Like that?" 

She nodded and laughed. It was so easy to beat this guy. "I hadn’t even got to the fact that you not only lick, but you suck it off your fingers." 

"Donna!" He was used to her vulgarity, but it was really turning him on. She was his Dorito. 

She smiled and shrugged. "Where were we?" 

"I don’t know, but I’m never going to think the same about chips ever again." 

"How will this work?" 

"We just…separate ourselves from work and from non-work." 

"But we can’t be together during non-work because of work." 

Dammit. She had a point. "Well," he said trying to figure it out. He gave up. "I don’t know." 

She laid her hear on his shoulder. "But we want to be together, right?" 

"Are you kidding? Donna, do remember what’s been done since we got here." He was not only referring to the jumping, but to the fact that he tried twice to say he loved her. Both knew that chance was shot to hell, but neither cared. It was known now that they loved each other and she didn’t need him to say it again. 

"So we…wait. That doesn’t sound like it will work." 

"I know if we try to keep it a secret we’ll get busted." 

She nodded. "No dating."

"No." 

"No romanticness." 

"Not really." 

"No kissing." 

He sighed. "Nope." 

"No sex." 

A pause. She repeated, "No sex." 

"What if we give it a run before we get back—" 

"No sex," she said firmly. "Not until Bartlet’s out of office." 

"Fine," he grumbled. "No sex." 

"Can we call each other?" 

"We talk all the time. Of course I’ll need you to call." 

"No. I mean can we talk romantic on the phone? You know. Pretend like you’re my long distance boyfriend and that we have to call each other?" 

"Boyfriend?" This was too good for him to pass up. 

She blushed and turned her head. "I said like my boyfriend." 

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He knew that he couldn’t stand watching her date anymore. 

"Does that mean no more Amy?" She asked with glee. "Because if you’re my boyfriend then I’m your girlfriend. And your girlfriend will want you to date exclusively no matter how far apart we are." 

"No Amy." He had to laugh. He knew long ago there would be no more Amy. 

"So we’re dating, but it’s secret phone dating?" They needed to be clear on this. 

Josh decided that if they got secure cell phones, this could actually work. "You need a computer." 

"Are you wanting to do that cyber thing?" She didn’t care if he said yes. She was just giddy that Josh loved her and was going to be her secret phone boyfriend. 

"NO!" His voice squeaked. 

"I know you didn’t think about it till now. But why?" 

"Besides being easier for work it would make talking to you simpler when you’re at home. I’ve been thinking about it work wise for quite some time. When I thought about secret phones, the computer came to mind too." 

"Are we going to be all Mission Impossible?" Donna giggled as she flopped back on the mattress. 

He lay down beside her as they stared at the ceiling. "No…maybe. I might have to tell Sam. He would help in the paranoia department." 

She took his hand and rolled over to face him. "Do we tell anybody?" 

Though Sam was his best friend, it would take some time before they could trust the news to anyone. "No. Not at first. Then maybe Sam. And CJ… and possibly Toby is he looks in a good mood that day we tell CJ." 

Donna nodded. "I have no one to tell besides them too. What about my roommate?" 

"You don’t like her that much," he pointed out. "You just like her money and cats." 

"But she’ll recognize your voice." 

"I don’t know!" Josh’s head was beginning to throb. 

"You’re right. One step at a time. Boyfriend," She giggled at the last word. 

He leaned over and kissed her temple as he squeezed her hand. "We need aliases." 

"I want a pretty name," Donna reflected before they spent the next three hours in thorough discussion and debate. And they had never been happier. 

*~*~*

Zack and Spike had been laughing nonstop for the past two minutes, but they had long forgotten why. 

"Come sit on you ole Pap’s lap." Zack remembered again. And he was going to make sure that memory was taken until morning. 

"We’re sloshed," Spike giggled. He was happy as could be. For the second, all was working out in the world. He had his wife, his best friend and a half of a bottle of tequila. Life couldn’t get much better for him. Then the door opened. 

"Oh," Giles said with surprise. "I didn’t know you two were in here. I’ll go." 

"Come on in," Zack said falling out of his chair as he motioned with his hand. Spike remembered again why he was laughing. 

As he watched the blonde headed drunks crawl back into his seat he counted six empty tequila bottles and two partially full ones. They were sloshed. He sighed as he reflected on the fact that he needed a drink. And he had a feeling they could be drinking the last tequila in the castle. When he sat Zack passed him the bottle. "This is nice," he sighed. "Sharing a drink with my dads. Quaint actually." 

Giles would have commented but he was too busy chugging the bottle. The issues with Zack had him confused from the already frustrated state that he was in. "She said she liked me." 

"Huh?" The men asked. All they knew was that was the first words he said after he sat down and drank up Zack’s liquor.

"Kelly. She said that Madeline liked me. But she hasn’t said a word hardly since arriving back." 

"Screw ‘er," Spike said with a nod. "You don’t need ‘er. You can do better than some wonky witch." 

Zack agreed. "Yeah. Besides, Madame Hooch should tell ya something. Just listen to that name." 

Even Giles had to snicker. If he could swindle Spike out of the rest of tequila, he would be a happy man. 

Spike caught his eye. "Watch this." He looked to Zangy. "Get up." 

"No," Zack slurred. 

"Get up," he said forcefully. Zack complied sulking. "Do ten jumping jacks!" 

And he did. Or at least tried. He got about one and a half before he fell flat on his face. "That isn’t funny," he growled. 

Spike had lost it. He toppled into the floor as he cackled with glee. Giles took the opportunity to snatch the bottle up and pour it down his throat. "That was bleeding hilarious, mate. Trust me…" he gasped for breath. "If you were here, you’d be dying." 

"You’re both dead," Giles pointed out as he placed the bottle on the table. He was a drunk and happy man. 

This astute observation made both vampires laugh all the harder. Especially went they heard a knock on the door. Giles got up to answer, but toppled to the floor by Zack. 

Angel walked in with a groan when he recognized the scene. "Guys," he said irately. "We don’t have time for this." 

"No tequila for you," Zack giggled. "You have poofy hair." 

"That’s my boy," Spike crowed. 

"Giles?" Angel was hoping that the Watcher would have some source of reason. 

"Mine too," Giles giggled. "Rosie calls me Papa."

"Oh brother," Angel sighed. 

"Hey," Spike said wagging a finger. "We’ve had just ‘bout enough out of you." 

Kelly walked in and shared an eye roll with the senior vampire before walking over to her husband to pull him off the floor. "Say hi to Pap and Papa," he slurred. 

Kelly sat him in a chair before reaching down for Spike. "Hi Pap." She then helped up Giles. "Hi Papa." 

"Kelly please—" Angel said walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder. 

"Stop." She had known Angelus for years and was still trying to get to know Angel. Though she pondered if it was truly him. She looked to Giles. "He won’t leave us alone. Willow’s in with Dumbledore and I found the blocking spell, but it’s the non-translated edition. Dawn’s giving Rosie a bath. Are you able to?" 

All Spike could do was snicker as the three drunk men were escorted back to the library by Kelly. 

"Are you mad?" Zack slurred as his wife helped him along. 

She smiled softly. Zack knew that she didn’t care for drunkenness much, but she was just pleased that they all seemed in lighter spirits. "No. Not this time."

"I can show you something’ funny, Kel," Spike said with pride. "I can make him do anything you want. Wanna watch him dress in drag and do the hula?" 

"Don’t," Zack growled. 

"Can you make him pick up his dirty clothes every morning?" 

"Kel," Zack whined. 

"Only if you let me tell to do it while dressed in drag doing the hula." 

"But that would mean that you’d want to be in our bedroom every morning to watch." 

The perverted Giles was tickled pink by that thought and that was the scene shown when they stumbled into the library. 

"If you guys would stop for two seconds…" Angel said desperately, following the drunken vision of the Watcher as he mindlessly wandered the Hogwarts aisles. "I can really be of some use! I know everything that’s about to go down. Really! I—" 

"Someone shut him the bloody hell up!" Spike snapped, covering his ears and grinning when Zack obligatorily mimicked his action. "God. I never knew the meaning of the word hangover till I started drinking around Peaches. Zangy!" He jerked his head toward Angel. "Take care of the bad man for your Pap, would you?" 

The newly risen automatically set off to make his sire proud, but found himself overwhelmed by a string of logicality within two steps. He blinked slowly and turned back to Spike, trying to see through the haze that surrounded his hindsight. "You sure you don’t wanna take him out yourself?" he asked. "As much as I’d like to make Angelus—" 

"That’s Angel," the vampire in question growled. 

"—a knuckle-sandwich, I always reckoned dealing with the Great Poof was your territory." 

"Oi, mate," Spike said, beaming proudly. "You’re m’boy, now. Gotta learn the trules of the trade sometime." 

"Was that tools or rules?" Kelly asked Giles, who shook his head and batted her away as he lost himself down another labyrinth of books. She frowned and tried to follow him. "I don’t know why you want to research. It’s not like you’re going to understand anything you read when you’re smashed." 

"Piffle!" the Watcher scoffed. "I can research bloody well blindfolded. Now move aw…" He blinked slowly as though realizing she was there. "Oh, Kelly, dear. Could you brew me some coffee? I think I have a…a headache coming on…" 

Kelly quickly did the incantation she knew for hot chocolate and watched Giles slurp it down without asking any questions. 

Zack and Spike weren’t any better off. Both men simultaneously clutched their heads and keeled over, grasping whatever surface was readily available as Angel stood aside and watched with some confusion. 

Kelly frowned and peered into the pit from where she was busy magically summoning a fourth cup of hot chocolate. "What’s wrong? Everything all right?" 

"It’s my head," Spike complained. "’S awful. I think I’m sobering up." 

The frown marring her brow deepened. "All…already?" 

"Of course," the disgruntled Watcher from behind grumbled, clutching his own head as he downed another cup. "At a children’s school, I believe it safe to wager that discontinuing a long drinking binge would cause all inebriated parties to…sober up rather effectively." 

"You mean a man can’t even stay decently sloshed around here?!" Spike demanded angrily. "Oh, that’s fine. Come on, Zangy. We’re going back to the pub." 

"No!" Zack protested, holding his head. "I think if I drink anymore, I’ll die from alcohol poisoning." 

Spike rolled his eyes. "That’s bloody impossible, mate. Remember? You’re all fangy and ‘grrrr’ now." 

At that, the other man’s face brightened considerably. "Oh, right! I can drink and smoke as much as I want to now without facing the consequences." 

"You will not be smoking around our daughter, Zack Morris!" Kelly snapped as she delicately handed Giles his sixth cup of hot chocolate. 

Spike’s eyes lit up as he realized what she was busy doing. "Oh, Kel," he said eagerly, bounding over to her. "’ll be your friend forever if you share the goods." 

"You’re going to be my friend forever, anyway," she retorted even as she started to comply to his request. 

"’Side the point. Hey." He pointed to his childe as she provided him with the hot commodity. "I’ll be his friend forever. And you know that’s something you’re gonna need for the boy. A good long line of friends and colleagues. Point of fact, I’d wager—" 

"ENOUGH!" Angel bellowed, causing everyone with a hangover to wince in turn. Wince and then glare. He ignored the brewing negativity and stalked forward. "Don’t you people realize what’s going on here? I know that I’m not exactly the greatest source of fidelity right now. Lord knows I’ve done enough these past few years to…but look at you people! You would really trust a soulless…" He gestured to Spike, whose brows arched with curiosity and shades of humor if this was the track he aimed to take. "Him, rather than—" 

Needless to say, Peaches didn’t get very far. 

Spike suppressed a long chuckle as his childe growled protectively at the unnamed threat that went miraculously unvoiced against his sire. In an instant, Zack had Angel pinned against one of the bookshelves, headache and all, and had burst into game face. He heard Kelly gasp from the head of the alcove and wondered if she had seen her husband in all his demony glory, but couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. Simply Angel’s baffled expression was enough to last any man a lifetime. Or several. 

"You know who we are," Zack snapped, unable to help the animalesque growl that tore at his vocals. "And you know where our loyalties lie. Soulless or not, Spike has given us more reason to trust him in simply walking down the fucking hallway than you have in the entire expanse of our acquaintance. You got me?" 

Spike was impressed. His childe knew how to crack out the big words while nursing a hangover. Definitely from his side of the Aurelius gene pool. That had to be some remnant William lurking about; he didn’t reckon the innate Zack Morris could be so blatantly focused. Kelly’s stories about his stunning academics weren’t really…well…stunning. 

Angel rolled his eyes, which also didn’t earn any points. If anything, Zack’s hold of him became more demanding. Still he could not feasibly intimidate a vampire who remained a good two centuries his senior, and while everyone in proximity knew this, a point of some regard was still achieved. 

"Don’t mess with me, boy," the elder vampire warned. 

"Yeah, Peaches," Spike snipped from the back, sipping at his hot chocolate. His tone was wrought with cynicism. "You tell ‘em." 

"I don’t know how you got everyone around you to start buying into your bullshit—" 

"’S called not trying to kill them." 

"Last I checked, your lease on that warranty expired." 

Zack slammed him with a measure of authority against the wall. "That. Wasn’t. His. Fault." He stopped for a minute. "Bitch." 

Angel sneered and looked over his shoulder. "Taken to your cronies fighting your battles for you?" 

"Zangy’s no crony, mate. He’ll tear your head off right quick if you know where to look." Spike smiled condescendingly. "’Sides, I’ve always fancied watching your older-than-history arse getting pounded by the youngsters. By the by, how is that great poofter Slater? Word of the mouth says he likes him some timber. And I wager you’d know all ‘bout that, wouldn’t you, Peaches?" 

"I don’t know how Buffy puts up with you." 

"Funny, I was just thinking the same. Though she did tell me recently that she wished it’d been me who popped her cherry, and that was after she revealed you were a big soul-having git again." Both Zack and Angel froze and turned to examine the platinum vampire’s shit-eating grin. He raised his mug of hot chocolate to them in toast. "’Course, we could always turn back time and see how’d that go. Whaddya say?" 

"You disgust me." 

"Only ‘cause she loves me, innit so?" Spike shook his head, rumbling with mirth. "Cor, I can’t believe you. After all that’s happened, you’re still on that. She chose me over you. She’ll always choose me over you. What we have, mate, is so much more than any little piece of heaven you decided to walk out on. She was a bleeding girl when she was with you. I got to know her. I got to fall in love with her…not bloody at her. So sod the bloody fuck off. I’m tired of you and your little pity party. The bird moved on. Get over it. Stop hassling me and mine, or I might just let Zangy off you." 

Angel snickered and glanced down to where Zack had maintained his grip. "Like he could." 

Spike beamed proudly. "Oh, trust me," he said. "He could." 

"I could," Zack agreed. 

"He’s just a kid." 

"And you’re a poofter. Moreover, you’re an unwelcome poofter. And I’m done wasting my lack of breath on you." Spike jutted his chin toward Zack, who nodded and released his grip. It was nothing of an exercise of power. No, the gesture was a plain ‘let him go, he’s not worth the effort’. "I’m sure Ripper’ll be able to find a nice banning spell to keep your uninvited arse out of our way." 

"Found one," Giles confirmed from the stacks, nursing an eleventh cup of hot chocolate. "And it’s actually rather simplistic. I won’t even require Willow’s services." 

"Bloody marvelous," Spike applauded. His glare reset at Angel. "Now, if you’ll excuse us…" He nodded Zack and Kelly toward the door, leaving the dumbfound vampire to stand there in his stupefied splendor. 

Zack shook his head angrily as the three piled into the hallway. "I have no fucking clue how you managed to spend a century with that pisser and not set yourself on fire—or better, him. God, the guy bugs me. He’s always bugged me, but now he really bugs me. What is that?" 

Spike shrugged and reached for his cigarettes. "’S Peaches for you," he replied. "What can I say? And technically, it wasn’t a century. Hell, it wasn’t even two decades. If you wanna pity someone, pity Darla—the crazy bint who sired him." 

"Don’t particularly want to pity that nutcase," Zack observed. 

"Neither do I," his sire admitted. 

"If you two would excuse me…" Kelly said, weaning between them, "I’m going to go take advantage of the lack of-childness around me and take a nap. Dawnie’s not going to be able to keep Rosie preoccupied forever, but I’d better go try to catch a few winks while I can." 

Zack frowned. "You all right?"

"Yeah." She smiled softly. "I just haven’t been sleeping. You know…the hubby got sired thing. Kinda took it out of me." 

Spike grinned. "Kel," he said softly. "You’ve earned the right to sleep the bloody week away in my book, sired hubby or not. Point of fact, I can’t think of a one of us who isn’t the slightest bit knackered, given all that’s happened recently." 

She smirked impishly at that. "Yeah. You and Buffy haven’t had any private time since the mastership ritual, have you?" 

Uncharacteristically, Spike flustered a bit at that and his eyes widened. It was apparent that he hadn’t expected such a blunt mentioning of what happened in the woods. With everything that had occurred as of the recent, the others hadn’t had proper time to corner him and milk every detail for their own personal naughtiness file. All more besides, it was somewhat personal, and he didn’t particularly fancy sharing all the goodies with other women. 

Zangy, on the other hand, was not only his best chum, but also his childe. It was imperative that he know these things. 

He just couldn’t talk about it in front of Kelly. For some reason, the idea of doing it in front of Kelly merited more comfort. He similarly reckoned that trying to accurately transcribe the level of feeling—which was what the bird wanted, because all women jonesed for the touchy feely crap—would render him a stuttering picture of Poncy William, and he couldn’t have that. 

"Umm, right," he said a minute later, avoiding everyone’s eyes. "Why don’t you toddle off, then? Zangy and I’ll patrol the halls." 

‘Patrol the halls?’ Zack mouthed, confused. 

Spike nodded furiously. 

"Right," he agreed. "Patrol the halls." 

Kelly merely chuckled and shook her head, planting a kiss on the would-be-blushing cheek of her husband’s sire. "You are too cute," she decided before giving her husband the same treatment. "But I’ll leave you two to yourselves. Just don’t go get drunk again. I’m sure Rosie will want some good Daddy/Uncle Spike time very shortly." 

Spike smiled weakly. "’Course, love." 

"We’ll just…" Zack’s brow furrowed. "Patrol." 

The instant Kelly was out of earshot, he pivoted sharply to Spike and arched an eyebrow. "What the hell are we gonna patrol?" 

"Well, you got any better ideas? Kel wants sleep, Peaches is in the library—albeit, not for long, library equals research, and we’ve just been told that we can’t go get sloshed again." Spike grumbled irritably and finally lit the cigarette that was dangling between his lips. He offered one to Zack at the unspoken question in his childe’s eyes, but scowled all the same. "Y’know you’re gonna hafta start buying your own now that your little secret’s outta the bloody closet. I can’t afford to fund your fags, Zangy." 

"Very funny." 

"What?" 

"Calling my smoking ‘out of the closet’ and then saying something about fags." 

He could have played dumb if he wanted to, but Spike knew the other man knew him much too well to buy it for too long. "Just glad you can still keep up." 

They began walking side by side at a leisurely pace, neither particularly paying attention to their surroundings or the ground being covered. It seemed forever had passed since they had done this—just been them. Spike and Zack: the blonde duo of best-frienddom. Everything as of the recent had been so completely hectic that managing time to themselves was nothing of the simple. And even though things were far from over, the nice not-worrying was…well, nice. Given all that had happened over the last two weeks, it was likely a miracle they were here at all. Here. Walking together. Being what they were. Sire and childe. Man to man. Nearly brothers, in their own regard. 

Unfuckingbelievable. 

"So," Zack said. "How did the mastership thing go?" 

Spike grinned. "Bloody spectacular." 

"Granted you’re not as sore and limpy as you were earlier, but I take it that you two are equals now?" He shook his head. "I vaguely remember bringing the challenge up while drunk, but—" 

"Oh yeah. Bloody equals." The platinum vampire was grinning like a lunatic. Obviously, wherever he was had been labeled as an eternal Happy Place. "’ve never been so equal in all my unlife." 

"What happened?" 

"Well, first I gave the Slayer a little lesson in blood-letting. Made her eat her dinner from the sodding source." 

Zack stopped dead in his tracks. "You made her kill a piggy?" 

"She ate the piggy, too." 

"I can’t believe she didn’t put up a fight." 

Spike’s brows perked. "Who says she didn’t? Buffy always puts up a fight, mate. Even when she knows she can’t win. It’s one of the things I love most about her. The chit’s so bleeding determined. No, she put up a helluva fight. Just didn’t work out too terribly well. She had to kill and eat the swine. An’, even though we haven’t had proper time to really discuss that portion of the evening, I’d wager her response was as enthusiastic as any normal vamp’s woulda been. By the way, that reminds me…next time the Slayer goes pig-hunting, you’re going, too." 

Zack’s eyes widened comically. "What?!"

"No childe if mine’s gonna have his dinner spoon-fed to him. You’re a vamp now, mate. I’m bloody well gonna treat you like one." 

"I’m not going to be harming any innocent pigs." 

Spike rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Piffle. Innocent? Lest you forget, it’s the very same animal that’d be bled for your dinner." 

"So let it be bled. I’ve spent WAY too much time watching Winnie the Poo with Rosie to ever comfortably eat a pig." He made a face. "Besides—hello—gross!" 

"This coming from the man who didn’t blink twice before he ate another human being, before he became a vamp, no less." 

"That was different. It was Slater." 

"You’re daft." 

"Whatever. I’m just not eating any pigs." 

"You’d love it." Spike grinned evilly when he saw his friend scoff again at the idea and stepped forward, tone turning as seductive as he could while addressing another man. "Just think ‘bout it, Zangy. That throbbing pulse, the telling thump of a heartbeat. Skin moist and salty from the thrill of the chase. Mmmm…I can smell the sweat from here. Atrocious, ‘course, but still sweet. Very sweet. Nothing like a good workout to get you all primed and hungry. And then your fangs…biting into a nice accommodating jugular. Tasting blood that’s all pumped with exhilaration. There’s nothing sweeter, ‘cept maybe the blood of something pertaining to a more human variety, but that’s a no-no, innit?" His grin broadened when he saw the dazed look marring his childe’s face, knowing full well that Zack had just betrayed more than any amount of denial could merit. "So, how’s it sound?" 

It took a minute before the newly risen was able to compute that he had been formally addressed. "How’s…what?" He frowned and concentrated. "It sounds great. I mean disgusting. It sounds disgusting, Spike. For Chrissake, you’re talking about a pig." 

"Yeah, well, your demon doesn’t think so." 

Zack’s eyes widened and his hand automatically sought out his forehead. Sure enough, the bumpies were there. His demon might as well have been camped out by a fire with a guitar, singing Kum Bai Ya with how much it seemed to favor that option. It made him shudder to think how well he could grow accustomed to the hunt, especially if people were at the other end of the food source. 

But that would never happen, so…moving on… 

"That wasn’t very nice," he pouted. 

"Oh, bugger off. I was just proving a point." 

Zack grumbled but nodded. He was suddenly very eager to get off this train of thought. "So…what did the mastership thing entail…other than sex?" 

That seemed to successfully derail his companion. Spike adapted that far away look that he was partial to whenever mention of naked Slayers tied in with endless supplies of blood and Weetabix were brought up as topic of discussion. He proceeded to then—in every lasting detail—describe exactly what had gone down outside before the entire ‘rushing inward to sire Zangy’ part of the story. Zack had the distinct impression that Spike could talk forever on the subject—his earlier reaction to its mentioning be damned for something greater. Spike would likely stake himself before mention the happenings of his sex-life in front of Kelly, but when treated to the secluded company of his best chum, it took everything short of an apocalypse to get him to shut up. 

Zack hated to admit it, but when Spike started talking, it was hard to remember to tell him to shut up. Spike had a way of telling stories and keeping one’s attention hooked to the maximum. 

Still, he couldn’t help teasing the guy, based on the description provided. "So," he said once Spike reached conclusion, "you’re telling me that this entire ‘challenging of the mastership’ thing basically consisted of you and Buffy in the buff—full pun intended—beating the shit out of each other and then fucking each other silly?" 

The other vampire frowned. "Well, it doesn’t sound as ritualistic when you put it that way but…yeah." 

There was a chuckle. Zack shook his head. "Anyone ever tell you that your definition of romance leaves something to be desired?" 

"Every day, and it’s usually you." Spike smirked. "And my reply stands as such: don’t knock it till you try it. What ‘appened out there was a powerful, moving experience. One of the best in my bloody unlife." 

"You just like getting beat down." 

Spike arched brows in a look that clearly spelled out: ‘Well, yeah.’ It was the same look he received and granted at least ten times a day, present company in mind. "Hello—vampire. ‘Course I do. So do you now, come to think of it. You oughta have Kelly explore her hidden S&M side sometime, then you can talk to me ‘bout perversion of the romance." 

Zack graced him with a falsely suspicious glance. "How do you know that Kelly has an S&M side?" 

"‘Cause all women have an S&M side." Spike grinned. "Usually the more wholesome they appear; the more tigerish they are when it comes to the shagging. Take the Slayer, for instance." 

"Buffy’s hardly wholesome," he observed with a snicker. 

"Watch it, boy. Don’t appreciate that tenor when you’re referring to my lady." 

Zack couldn’t help it; he rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Buffy? Wholesome? She’s a blink away from being as bad as you!" 

It didn’t take much to get Spike to grin like an idiot. He had that faraway expression on his face that would make a lesser man weep with envy if said man did not have the exact same thing to come home to every night. "Yeah, but you didn’t see her before she and I were together. Trust me, it took a good long while to work out her…inhibitions." 

There was a thoughtful pause at that. "You know…I can’t see you two not together. You’re so…coupley." 

"You trying to get on your Pap’s good side?" 

"No," Zack replied honestly before smirking. "If I were, I’d offer you Weetabix. Or money. Or cigarettes. Or blood. Or—" 

"How ‘bout Weetabix crushed in blood with a pack of fags stuffed with hundred dollar notes?" 

The younger gave his sire a sideways glance that had them both chuckling in seconds. 

"Right," Spike agreed when the continued walking. 

"I mean it, though. I really can’t imagine you two not being together." 

"Can’t imagine you and Kel not being together, either. But, if you should need to investigate the pre-googly-eyed-marital-bliss that is me and the Slayer, chat up Harris real good. Or Red. Or Demon-Girl. Or just ‘bout any of the Scoobies that were before your time. I’m just glad you didn’t have to see the entire soap opera that was Buffy/Angel." 

Zack attempted and failed to suppress a shudder. "I don’t know how she did it." 

"She was young," Spike excused airily with a shrug. "’S forgivable." 

"She did have eyes, didn’t she? She saw the hair?" 

"I’m more appalled that she put up with his brooding." At that, the elder vampire paused and scrunched up his face to imitate a glowery look of suspended mystery, his right hand brushing peroxide locks from his hairline as tightly as possible. When he spoke again, it was in a badly Americanized accent. "‘Buffy…I want to be with you, but my soul is so painful. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. So here’s the thing: you hero-worship me, I’ll mope ‘cause I can’t shag you, and we’ll live bloody miserably ever after. That work for you?’" 

Zack shuddered again. "Okay, giving me the wiggins." 

"Sorry." 

"Though I don’t know if it was for the thought or your accent." 

Spike scowled. "Watch it, boy." 

They were silent for a contemplative minute; then Zack shuddered once more.

"’S the brow, I think," the platinum vampire continued conversationally. "That’s what does it for his women. Or the fact that he’s tall, dark, and brooding. Adds mystery. Or maybe it’s the cars. Peaches has to have the best bloody car. Even if it is a convertible." 

"A vampire with a convertible?" 

"He had a death wish, I’m telling you. Too bad he didn’t follow up on it." 

"Wait a minute." Zack paused once more in stride. "I’ve got a convertible!" 

"Sorry, mate. It’s gotta go." 

"But I love that car!" 

"You wanna burn to a cinder?" The younger vampire begrudgingly shook his head. "Didn’t think so. Get rid of the car and get something better. A classic." 

Zack’s eyes narrowed. "Like the DeSoto?" 

"Bloody brilliant automobile." 

"Spike, it’s a piece of shit." 

He frowned defensively. "Oi!" 

"But from the sound of it, I don’t even have a piece of shit. I’m going to have to envy yours." Zack sighed. "God, there are aspects of this vampire thing that really suck." 

"Are you suggesting that everything human’s all wine and bloody roses?" Spike retorted skeptically. "There are definitely more perks to being of the undead than there are being alive. Trust me, mate. As the Slayer’d say: Been there, done that, got the bloody t-shirt. After you get used to the little quirks and such, it’s really like riding a sodding bicycle, only the learnings a helluva lot more fun. Point of fact…" 

They stopped simultaneously as the premonition washed over both, their eyes going wide with a beat of redundancy. There was no denying it—no second-guessing what was felt. No pretending, and no need for words. 

Spike and Zack’s eyes met. And they knew. 

With a beat of union, they tore down the corridor in the opposite direction, praying they weren’t too late. 

*~*~*

"I always got the reject friends," Dawn mumbled irately as she ran a comb through the brunette Barbie’s hair. "Teresa and Midge and all their stinking little friends." 

"Midge." Buffy made a face. "What a godawful name." 

"Like Barbie’s so much better." 

"Better than Midge." 

"Would you have preferred her name to be Buffy?" Dawn asked sweetly. "Speaking of godawful names." 

The Slayer scowled at her. "My name is Elizabeth, thank you." 

"Yeah, but you go by Buffy voluntarily." 

There was more scowling. Then a two-finger salute. Dawn retaliated by sticking her tongue out. Rosie, who was sitting on the bed, found the trade very amusing and decided to help the younger Summers sister by poking her tongue out as well. 

This only made Buffy’s pout deepen. "Traitor," she accused the child. 

The girl responded with a giggle and by mimicking the two-finger salute. 

"ROSIE!" 

"What?" she asked innocently. "What did I do?" 

"This is why you’re never having children," Dawn tsked at her sister. "You’d never know when enough is enough. They pick things up. Especially Rosie. She knows all the characters off 90210." 

"Dylan’s my favowite," the child agreed. 

"You let her watch 90210?" Buffy asked skeptically. 

"I make her look away during the naughty parts." 

"She tells me that the people are about to act like you and Uncle Spike," Rosie explained. "And tells me to close my eyes." 

The Slayer glared at Dawn. Dawn, in turn, merely smirked. 

"Well," Buffy said a snide minute later. "They could never act like me and Uncle Spike. Uncle Spike knows what he’s doing." 

"BUFFY!" 

"What?" Rosie asked, befuddled. "What does that mean?" 

"Nothing!" Dawn was shooting daggers at her sister, who merely shrugged with a laugh in response. 

"And what does this mean?" The girl mimicked the two-finger salute once more. 

"Nothing." 

"But I see Uncle Spike do it all the time." 

"It’s his way of waving hello." 

Dawn closed her eyes and slapped her forehead. Not good. For usually being so perceptive, Buffy closely resembled a decapitated chicken when trying to incorporate faux meanings or excuses to explain adult behavior to children. She had never been very good at it—her own upbringing point of fact. In many ways, the younger Summers girl suspected that her own astuteness what in part to her ability to wheedle through whatever lame excuses the elder Scoobies had given her to explain things they thought she was not ready for. 

Tara’s suggestion that Spike had built a Buffybot to play Checkers with immediately came to mind. The memory sparked a poignant grin. Despite how much time had passed, sometimes she missed Tara so much it was hard to breathe. 

"Oh!" Rosie quipped. Then she turned to Dawn and gave her the two-finger salute. "Hiya, Dawnie!" 

Buffy’s eyes widened in horror. Dawn merely smirked at her. 

"Hiya, honey." 

The Slayer’s look turned inquisitive. 

"Nope," her sister replied. "You’re gonna have to dig yourself out of that hole. Or explain to Kelly why her daughter’s suddenly going around waving obscene gestures at innocent bystanders." 

"Evil," Buffy pouted. 

"Ummm, you’re hardly one to talk." Dawn grinned. "It should make for an interesting trip around London, if we ever get out of here." She turned back to the child. "You’re lucky you don’t have an older sister who always made you be the lame friends, Rosie-Posy. When I was little—" And didn’t really exist, she couldn’t help but add to herself, "—Buffy always made me play Teresa and Midge and all the stupid friends. She was, of course, Barbie. I think she had a Barbie complex. That’s why she dyed her hair." 

Rosie glanced speculatively to the Slayer. "You paint your hair colors, Aunt Buffy?" 

"I suppose we could always ask Uncle Spike if she’s a natural blonde," Dawn smirked. 

"DAWN!" 

"How would Uncle Spike know?" Rosie wondered. 

"Corrupting the youth," Buffy scolded. 

"Oh, like you’re any better." 

"How would Uncle Spike know?" 

"He just would," Dawn explained. 

Rosie seemed to take this into consideration. Then she turned back to Buffy. "Is Uncle Spike a natural blonde?" 

It was not the proper timing for such a question. The Slayer had just gulped down a taster of blood, and she visibly struggled with herself to keep it in her mouth. In the meantime, Dawn collapsed in a fit of giggles onto the bed. 

"What?" the child wondered. "What did I say?" 

"Nothing!" Buffy squeaked. 

"Natural blonde!" Dawn cackled between chuckles. "Oh—My—God! That was the funniest thing ever." 

Their merriment was swiftly interrupted by a hasty and cold knock at the door. It was unusual to detect the setting for a mood through the placement of several beats against a wooden frame, but for whatever reason, such was easily noticeable given the sudden chill that settled throughout the atmosphere. Buffy’s look of mortification melted into suspicion—she was getting that feeling in the bottom of her stomach that warned her something of the bad was about to happen, but the Slayer within would not allow her to simply wait. 

"It’s not Spike," Dawn said quietly. "He would just come in." 

"So would Zack, I’d think," Buffy agreed. "Especially with Rosie in here. It’s…" 

Evidently, the party on the other side became tiresome and decided that no answer merited a free pass inward. Before anyone could react, the door flew open, revealing the half-starked vision of Drusilla. Her eyes were cold and calculating, set instantly on the Slayer as she paraded inward with intent. Behind her was Slater—his expression no different. 

"Oh look, dearie," the insane vampiress chimed, wasting no time before leaping directly to business. "We’ve interrupted a party." 

Slater merely prowled forward. His eyes spoke for everything he wasn’t saying. 

"A party," Drusilla continued when she went unanswered. "Was my name not on the guest-list?" 

"Get out of here, Dru," Buffy said lowly. Despite all the workings of the past, she had never truly faced off with her husband’s former. The prospect now was nearly terrifying. While she wouldn’t hesitate to kill the woman should she show the first sign of hostility, a tiny voice inside told her that—despite everything—Drusilla’s death would devastate him. And that thought hurt more than she could bear to consider. 

Her response came in the form of a curiously tilted head—the vampiress’s notoriously sinister eyes squinting in deference of her enemy’s status. She looked her up and down—head to toe—and snickered as though disappoint with what she saw. "Big bad Slayer," she berated. "Thinks she’s still in charge. Thinks she can give me orders. Steal away my William and it makes you think you’re important. Tsk tsk. Going to have to teach the Slayer some manners, aren’t we, Albert?" 

Slater looked at her for the first time and his eyes went instantly alight with the prospect of destruction. "Gladly." 

"We’re getting what we came for," Drusilla continued matter-of-factly. "The girl—both of them. One to open the doors and the other to close. How fitting. All the puppies get milk and bones tonight." 

Buffy growled and vamped at the predatory look in the woman’s eyes. Her yellow gaze burned with intense maliciousness and she stepped forward. "Over my dead body."

"Silly Slayer. The table is ready but there is no place for you." Drusilla motioned to Slater. "Show the naughty girl what we do to those who steal our cookies." 

It materialized from nowhere and hit her before she could decipher what happened. A delicate spray of liquid and her skin was suddenly on fire. Burning. Melting. Pouring and eating through layers. Buffy screamed. She screamed a long; inhuman cry of wailing desperation. The most agonizing sound to ever touch her lips. She screamed and screamed and still the pain came. This time in the form of a thousand crosses. They touched her everywhere, it seemed. At her chest, abdomen, arms and legs. Marks bearing across her throat, and still they came. She heard Dawn and Rosie crying in the distance, but they were so far away. So far. And she couldn’t stop screaming. 

Then, through the fog, Drusilla was speaking. 

"By the pricking of my thumbs," she said. "Something wicked this way comes." 

There was nothing for a minute. Buffy couldn’t see. Nothing until a tremulous roar that was not her own touched the room. She distinctly heard the telling implosion of vampiric bits, and suddenly she was being pulled against a chest. A very familiar chest. She could feel him quivering in fury beneath her as hands delicately explored her hair and skin. Cool lips caressed her where she was burning, and yet she could not see. 

"Don’t worry, sweetheart," her husband cooed in her ear. "I took care of it." 

It was a matter of finding her voice. 

"Spike?" 

"I’m here, love. God, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t quick enough. Wasn’t…" 

"Rosie?" she gasped. "And Dawn? Are they…?" 

"They’re fine. Dawn took the Bit and ran down to Kel’s room. It’s fine." He was coddling her tightly. She felt the sting of his own tears against her skin. Who knew that such salt could inspire the growth of healing? "God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." 

"Wasn’t…your…" Buffy pawed at him desperately. "Spike, I can’t see." 

"I know. We’ll get Madam Pomfrey to clean you up." Delicately, Spike pressed his lips to Buffy’s brow, closing his eyes. Only a few feet away lay Drusilla’s ashes, but he didn’t care. Didn’t think to care. All he had seen was her hurting the Slayer, coming to hurt Dawn and Rosie—his wife scorned by holy water and the infliction of sacred emblems, and everything had gone by instinct. If they had been a second later. "You’ll be all right, darling. I promise." 

"What…Dru?" 

"She’s gone, love. Don’t worry. She can’t hurt you anymore. Never hurt my baby again. Cor, couldn’t allow it. I staked her." 

Dead? He had killed Drusilla? 

Spike’s arms tightened protectively around her, and she knew. He had. Of course he had. Just as she would have killed Angel had the tables been turned. 

"And…Sla…Slater?" 

Spike glanced up. That was a measure of aptitude. 

Zack was dealing with Slater. 

Right now. 

Zack had already pinned the culprit against the wall with enough force to send the mirror in the bathroom crashing to the floor. The man made no flinch at the shattering of his ribs. 

"You just don’t learn," Zack said coolly. "It’s bad enough that you go after the Slayer, but when you throw two innocents into the mix—we’ll just leave out the part of my daughter—you cross a line." 

Slater’s eyed the vampire with more darkness than Zack had seen except for staring into his best friend’s darkest demon. But he did not shudder for an instant. His game face came after flashing the man with neon yellow eyes. "Do you have any last words because you’ve tested my patience for the last time?" 

"It’s too late," he said simply before beginning the recitation to a spell that Zack knew AC Slater would never know. But he got no more than the first few syllables off his tongue.

"This is for Kelly," he whispered before he sank his teeth in his neck. He closed his eyes as he heard the man try to speak once more and relished in the fact that he was finally disposing of the one thing that had damaged his marriage so much. The one thing that made him start to jump to conclusions and assume the worst from his wife. The man the made him feel as though no one in his life could be trusted. 

As the blood sank down his throat he realized that though from Slater’s body, this was by no means the blood of a simple man. The rush he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced and he relished in it as the feeling washed over him. 

"What…is he…?" Buffy was clutching her husband’s chest as she felt his muscles tighten beneath her. 

Spike looked at Zack as he continued to suck the boy dry. "Finding out once and for all why we prefer humans to piggies." 

But Spike’s pride quickly changed as he met his childe’s eyes. Zack looked up at him as he let the body drop and the elder immediately recognized that something was wrong. He figured Zack would like the taste, but not enough to drive his demon out this far. 

"Spike," Buffy said pulling away and leaning against the wall. She sensed the evil that had entered the room.

The primal growl that roared from the blood stained mouth sent shivers down the platinum vampire’s spine when he looked at the demon approaching him. Zack hadn’t only released his demon, he had released pure evil. 

Instinctively, Spike knew what he had to do. He met Zack half way and clamped down on the man’s shoulder hoping to incite the proper reaction. Success came when he felt his childe’s fangs sink into his neck opposite of his mark. Spike growled with the surrender of hoping that this would pull Zangy back and with the hope that he did not just give himself a death sentence. The Cockney was taken back when he felt the evil that now surged within his friend’s system. A sensation that he had never the privilege to feel encased his body momentarily before he felt his Zangy slowly come back to him. The blonde man drank a little more out of necessity before pulling his fangs from his master and resting his forehead on his shoulder. "Spike," he almost whimpered as weakness enveloped him. 

Spike was no better. He had surrendered quite a bit of blood in the bargain and would have fallen had it not been for his wife to find her way to his side. 

"What happened?" Buffy softly demanded. 

"I don’t…" 

"That wasn’t Slater," Zack said. "That was…" He paused to give a shaky sigh. "Really, really good." 

Spike pulled away wide eyed to look at the man who was once on his shoulder. "I’m going to have problems with you." 

"Who was it?" Buffy asked as she took her husband’s hand. 

"It had to be the likes of Voldemort," Spike reckoned. "That was some of the darkest ‘ve ever tasted." 

As the door opened Kelly attentively stepped across the threshold. When she saw her husband’s weakness she was by his side in time to keep him from going to the ground. "Hiya honey," he said as she placed him on the bed. He gave her a shy smile. 

She gulped as she saw the body on the floor then turned back to wipe the blood from her husband’s mouth. "He’s dead," she said simply as though making a mental note to remember. 

"I tasted…evil. I was evil." He then turned to Spike. "I felt it. Didn’t I?" 

"Yeah," he responded still a bit in shock. "That was quite a rush, eh mate?" 

Zack smiled and nodded. He didn’t know how to feel but at the current moment he simply felt relief. He met his wife’s gaze and they shared a long look. They were both trying desperately to figure out what the other one was thinking but gave up when they realized they didn’t even understand themselves. "The girls?" 

"They’re locked in our room. We better get back. I am not taking her out of my sight again." She stood up and realized that Buffy was hurt. "Oh God," She gasped as she approached her. "Buffy?" 

"I can’t see," she said taking the woman’s hand. Spike was on her other side holding her gently against him. 

"Come on," he said gruffly. "We need to take care if this." 

Zack stood up and shook of the last of his evil confusions. "Do you need me?" 

"Stay with the ladies. Though I think that with our watch party down to two, we have better chances." 

"Two?" Kelly said as they all went to the hall. 

"I know Darla, but are you saying Angel?" Zack asked before they began to walk in separate directions. Spike nodded. 

"You know that he isn’t Angelus," Buffy pointed out. 

"I know," he smiled. "But he’s still on the watch list. Ripper doesn’t like him no more." 

The four of them shared a smile before turning in their proper directions. 

*~*~*

Zack cleaned himself up before walking into their bedroom. His day was made complete when Rosie ran into his arms and he was able to finally place a kiss atop her curly blonde hair. "I’m ready to go home, Pigtails," he sighed. "How about you?" 

"I don’t like family trip time no more." 

He smiled and nodded before turning his gaze to Dawn. "Buffy’s going to be fine." He held out his free arm and she raced toward it. 

Kelly shared a look with her husband as she watched him hold the girls. "I know," he whispered. 

"I don’t know how much more I can take, Zack." She looked away. "This is just all too much." 

"Are the bad people gone?" Rosie asked looking up at her father. When he didn’t respond immediately she turned to her mother and repeated the question. 

Who were the bad people? Zack and Kelly didn’t know. They knew who she was referring to, but that word seemed as lame as ever. Who was bad? Who was good? Were they still the good guys or just pretending? 

"Yeah," Kelly said taking her daughter and putting an arm around Dawn. "Those bad people are gone." 

"Where’s Buffy?" Dawn asked. She needed to see with her own eyes that her sister was OK. 

"She and Spike will probably go to the library once they see Madame Pomfrey." Zack glanced around the room for anything that might be useful downstairs. He ended up grabbing some toys and a pick of cigarettes. He was touched when Kelly handed him his lighter with an eye roll. "It is our Angel Free Zone." 

"Let’s go," Rosie said. "But can we get my Barbies, Daddy?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "But I can’t play with you down there. Daddy will have important work to do." 

Dawn smiled. Things seemed more normal than they had been forever. A foreboding weight that had encompassed them all seemed to have dissolved. They all were feeling it. 

*~*~*

"Eureka!" 

"Jenkies!" 

"Huh?" Xander asked as he looked up at the two former Watchers. "And…jenkies?" 

"It seemed appropriate," Giles said removing his glasses. 

"Eureka?" Josh snorted. He then tried to imitate a British accent. "I believe dear Watson that he might have found a clue." 

"Well it’s better than jenkies," Donna admitted giving a sympathetic look to the elder Watcher. "I think he stole that off of Scooby Doo. Does Thelma got a clue?" 

"Enough," Wesley bellowed. "And I always say eureka. Thank you." 

"Did you guys actually find something or were you preparing just in case?" Anya inquired. 

Both men nodded and began fighting over the privilege to speak. 

"I found the source of the problem." 

"As did I. It seems that—" 

"We are being trapped in here by none other than—" 

"Voldemort himself." A smug smile possessed Wesley’s features as he was able to get in the most important word. 

"Very good," Giles said patronizing the man. "But do you know how to stop him?" 

"Yes," Wesley said looking offended. "He has us trapped here while he feeds our insecurities until he’s strong enough to become corporal." 

"So this has been one big mind game?" Zack asked as he walked in followed by the three women. "All this…" he paused long enough to cover his daughter’s ears. "Bloody shit, has been for the sole purpose of screwing with our heads?" 

"Which has worked quite successfully," Xander couldn’t help but point out. 

"So how do we stop it?" Kelly said with excitement. They knew the problem finally and a solution seemed just moments away. 

"We must kill the human vessel," Giles explained. 

"So one if you all are going be inhabited by the bad wizard? And we have to kill you?" Spike said coming in with an optically repaired Buffy who immediately made contact with her sister. 

"If my calculations are correct," Wesley said picking up a notepad. "The vessel seems to—" 

"Slater," Giles all but shouted. "Wolfram and Hart brought back Slater to be the human vessel. He was used to help play a definitive part with the insecurities while playing the key role as human vessel." He turned Wesley with a cocky grin as he stuck his hands in his pockets. 

"British," Josh muttered. "I hate know-it-alls." 

Before Donna could comment on how badly his own self-opinion had to be, Zack asked. "That’s it?" 

"Yes. Someone must kill Slater." 

Zack and Spike shared a look and shrug before saying airily. "Been there." 

"Done that." 

Lorne was the first to speak in the room. "You mean that…it’s over?" 

All Zack and Spike could do was shrug and nod. 

"Zack killed him almost an hour ago," Buffy stated. "After he and Spike saved me, Dawn, and Rosie." 

"That would mean that the curse is lifted right?" Xander was already heading toward the door. 

"According to logicality, it seems that once the critical step of Voldemort’s plan was foiled, the curse would dissipate as well," Giles said walking toward the door. 

"But who’s going to test the theory?" Willow asked. "I don’t want to be eviscerated." 

"Where’s that Spawn?" Anya asked absently looking around the room. "We chuck him through and see what happens." 

"Are you sure your calculations are correct?" Spike asked the Watcher. 

"Yes. Most certainly." 

"Then let’s go," he said walking out the door. "Ready to get this over with. This could have been an hour we coulda spent getting’ away from here." 

They all walked out into the night as they followed the Cockney toward the edge of Hogwarts property. Little was spoken and many silent prayers filled air as all were hoping that they could go home or not watch the disembowelment of a certain platinum vampire. 

"Are you sure about this?" Buffy asked. 

"Yeah. I’m trusting Ripper isn’t plotting the single handed most crafty plot to dispose if me in history." 

"No," Giles said firmly. "But Spike, you must know that there is the chance that my calculations are not thoroughly complete." 

"Roll with my sacrificial moment here," He barked. "I don’t get this noble all the time." He paused. "That and I’m ready as ever to get out if here." With that he began to step over the line. 

Everyone had closed their eyes with anticipation and had heard the loud grunt and thump to the ground. A few muffled screams were heard in the back but Spike’s voice allowed everyone the comfort to lift their lashes. "Sorry," he muttered. "Bloody rock there. Didn’t pay any attention but ‘least everything’s still where it should be." He patted his stomach for good measure. 

Buffy ran over to wrap her arms around her neck and Giles then stepped over as well. Soon everyone who had ventured out of the library was dancing merrily on the side of freedom. 

"When can we leave?" Rosie asked her father who was spinning Kelly around in circles. 

"I don't know," he had to practically shout over the noise. "As soon as we can find a way back to London." 

The wizards who had been holing themselves away in Dumbledore's office were now making their way toward the party on the other side of the property line. "What happened?" Snape asked demanding answers. 

"We beat your ass in the game of knowledge," Spike said cheekily. "Thought that you were better than a group of vamps and misfits. HA!" 

"I do have to admit that I am surprisingly proud at the moment," Wesley said as he walked over to stand next to Giles. 

Giles looked on at the mass of bewildered professors. He grinned smugly and muttered, "I can out beat that hooch any ole time."

"Huh?" Willow said walking up behind the two. 

"Nothing," the elder Watcher said with a grin. "Just celebrating the fact that I'll be returning to home in a matter of hours." 

"Me too," Wesley sighed before looking to Willow with an apologetic look. "Though I do most certainly enjoy your company, Willow. I need a few hours away from this insanity." 

"Agreed," she said with a firm nod of her head. "But you guys are going all the way back to Los Angeles?" 

"London," both men said simultaneously. 

"That’s right," Willow said. "I forgot." She then looked down to the ground. "Wow. It’s going to be hard when you all leave. I’ve never been to Hogwarts all alone before."

"Why don’t you come to London with us for a few days?" Wesley suggested taking her arm. "You can say your farewells and relieve a little stress. Give your mind a chance to clear." 

Willow smiled shyly and nodded. "That does sound good." Then she looked serious. "School won’t start for weeks now you know—with the fact that it will take time to adjust to things again and clean up the place." 

"Then it’s settled." 

Zack and Kelly shared a kiss before he picked up his daughter and ran toward the house. They were going to London. Tonight. 

Everyone followed their sentiments and thirty minutes later all Muggles and demons were in the process of gathering their belongings. 

"It’s going to be cold," Anya whined. "I didn’t think of packing a coat." 

"Hold on," Kelly said running over to grab one of the Morris’s four bags. "Will your lavender parka do?" 

"Are you kidding?!?" Anya was in grateful shock as she watched her coat appear out of the bag. Kelly smiled and handed it to her. "You are the sweetest thing." 

Kelly blinked. She was complimented by Anya. She blushed as she said. "It was nothing. All of you like to leave your coats at the house so I figured they might come in handy if the weather didn’t hold up." 

"Wow," Xander said as his jacket was tossed to him. "You are like the coolest wife in the world." He turned to Zack. "Did you know you have the coolest wife in the world? She’s like a mom and a wife all rolled into one." 

"And a very persistent camp counselor," Zack said with a wink. "The coolest part was that I had to pack nothing. Not even the music." 

"But the missus forgot it as well," Spike snapped. 

Kelly walked over to him. "I know you have your duster but here’s your ivory sweater for you. I figured that all you’d bring was your black tees." 

Spike smiled warmly as he took the shirt. He rubbed his hand through his peroxide shirt. "Yeah…Thanks, Kel. And forget the whole music bit." 

"Already did," she said handing Buffy a jacket. "Just incase he got greedy with the duster." 

"Thanks," she replied. 

"Dawnie!" Kelly called through the abyss. "Here’s yours, too." 

She handed the younger Summers sister her jacket before picking up Giles’s coat. 

"Thank you," Giles said shyly. He adjusted his glasses as he nearly blushed. "I looked all over for it. You really shouldn’t have worried about it though." 

"No problem," she said leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "Papa." 

Soon she had handed out everyone’s belongings and bundled up Rosie to have her looking like an adorable little marshmallow. "I’m weddy," was the muffled response of the overheated child as she scrambled to pull her scarf from her mouth. 

"Let’s hit it," Josh said walking toward the door. 

They were gone before Dumbledore could say his parting address. 

"Thank goodness they’re gone," Pomfrey said with a sigh. "They got themselves in more trouble than Harry Potter." 

*~*~*

The trip through Hogsmeade was brisk and quick. Since nighttime had settled upon the land, most of the shops were all closed for the day. Willow did promise that she would be sending Kelly and Donna some wizarding trinkets along with some books to add to the President’s collection of useless knowledge. 

All shared a sigh of relief as they stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and onto the streets of London once more. 

"Thank God," Josh said as he whipped out his cell phone and dialed Washington. 

"What is the game plan?" Dawn asked. 

"I have two words," Zack said as he tried carrying all the Morris luggage. "The Ritz." 

"As long as you’re paying," Xander said dragging many of Lisa’s bags behind him. 

"NO!" Josh screamed into the phone. 

"Ignore him," Donna said to the rest of the gang as they walked on. "He called Toby for the first time in a week. Harsh words will be exchanged." 

"What are your plans?" Buffy couldn’t help but ask. She would have asked Ferris, Slone and Cameron, but they took off in the opposite direction as soon as safely were on London ground. 

"I already have a flight scheduled back to Washington. We’ll take off in about five hours." 

"Guess we’ve reached the end of the Dysfunctionals," Zack commented. 

"There’s always the reunion tour," Spike pointed out with a shrug. 

"Well you can tell Hampton to kiss my bloody ass!" Josh yelled into the phone before stopping to groan and run a hand through his hair. He met Donna’s amused look with a glare before turning to Spike and pointing. "I’m blaming you for that." 

Spike beamed. "You know you like it." 

"Sod off." 

"Josh!" Donna berated after he hung up the phone. 

"Can we stop somewhere please?" Lisa whined. "My heels are killing me."

"Giles?" Kelly said taking the Watcher’s arm. "Where do we go from here?" 

"Are you being cute, Kelly?" 

"No," she said shaking her head. "I mean, where do we go? You’re asking a group of people who’ve never been to London." 

"Oh…right." Giles pursed his lips in thought before ultimately shaking his head. "You know what? Bugger it. We’re going to a hotel—a nice hotel—and sleeping the week away. There will be plenty of time for us to explore the town. I desperately need a night off. Or a month. Whichever comes first." 

"Papa’s bedtime?" Rosie questioned. 

He couldn’t not smile at the child. Rosie could get him to grin even in the face of the apocalypse. Brushing his lips over her forehead, he nodded in tired agreement. "Quite," he said. "Papa hasn’t met his bedtime in nearly a week." 

The girl shook her finger at him. "Bad Papa." 

"And we need to decide where to go from here," Buffy said softly, meeting Spike’s inquiring eyes. They hadn’t discussed much, but there was the unspoken implication that should the Morrises follow through on their promise to leave the Hellmouth, they would follow. If such was not set in stone before, it definitely was now, whether or not they were particularly thrilled with the arrangement. While many vampires lived without their sires hovered over their shoulders, the Slayer understood that Spike was different—he looked after those he created, and even as such, Zack was newly risen. He would need guidance, regardless of how accustomed he was to living amongst vampires. 

"Well, if you will pardon me as I reiterate, bugger it," Giles said, throwing his hands in the air. "I can’t bloody well stand to mope around with aspirations of higher planning. Right now, the most long-terming thinking I want to do is decide which hotel to siege hostage for the next month and a half. I. Am. Exhausted."

"Yeah, me too," Spike agreed. "Sod whatever I said in the past. A man knows his limits, an lemme tell you…being accused, going bug-shagging crazy, killing a wolf, becoming human, being-soul having, being sired, siring someone else, and challenging your sire is all very tiresome." 

"So does worrying, being challenged, and being bathed in holy water," Buffy added. Spike’s arm tightened around her with furtive agreement. 

"Can I throw in worrying, suspecting, being killed, sired, stabbed, drunk, and going insane just for a few minutes…oh! And while being a father?" Zack wondered. 

"In the middle of the minstrel show and all," Kelly agreed. 

Giles and Wesley merely stared at them. 

"Try being a Watcher," Giles snapped. 

"Or a rogue demon hunter," Wesley added. 

"Or researching around the clock without a break." 

"Making sure everyone was safe while the vampires roamed the castle." 

"Being everyone’s father, and not Rosie’s!" Giles started jumping up and down, as though he had reached some form of pivotal point. "I daresay, parenting the lot of you is much more difficult than parenting a four-year old girl." 

"Haha! I beat you all!" Xander cried in victory. "Being married to Lisa! And having the Spawn for a son!" 

Everyone glanced to each other dejectedly, then mutedly nodded their agreement. 

"Hey!" Lisa snapped angrily, whapping him across the arm. 

Xander sneered and gave her the two-finger salute. He was befuddled when Rosie, out of the corner of his eye, returned the favor. 

Then she giggled. "Hi, Uncle Xander!" 

Zack and Kelly immediately turned to Spike and whacked him upside the head. 

"Oi!" he complained. "I didn’t—" 

"Yeah, you didn’t." 

"Actually, it was me," Buffy said meekly, smiling as she waved. "I was…erm…it…umm…you see, Dawn and I were…" 

Spike grinned and slapped either of his assailants upside the head in retribution. "Hah! Told you it wasn’t me." 

"Yeah, well, you’ve been a bad influence on Buffy," Kelly pouted, whacking him upside the head again. 

"Buffy’s a bad influence on herself." 

"Hey!" The Slayer protested, also succumbing to whacking him upside the head. 

"What is this," Spike demanded, moving away from everyone who was attacking him. "Kick the Spike Week?" 

At that, Buffy seemed to cave and she smiled genteelly. "Sorry, honey," she said, unable to resist the pout that glowered his lower lip. In an instant, she was curled at his side, head resting comfortably at his shoulder. "You’re right. You’ve been sufficiently beaten enough to outlast the next few millennia." 

"Doesn’t mean you’ll stop pounding on me, though," Spike retorted. 

"Doesn’t mean you’ll want me to," she shot back with a saucy grin. 

"Virgin ears!" Kelly hissed, pointing to her daughter. 

"What’s a virgin?" Rosie asked innocently. 

Before anyone could intervene, Anya spoke up. "The opposite of Stephen’s mother," she replied. "Someone who has never experienced—" 

Xander tackled his ex-fiancé before another word could rumble through her mouth. 

At that, Lisa groaned and rolled her eyes. "I am so sick of this," she grumbled. "Thank God we’re getting a divorce. If I saw you fawn over her anymore than I already do…" 

"It is not as though you haven’t brought it on yourself," Anya said simply. "Mothering a child that is not his does not accommodate the proper status of a wife who deserves fidelity. I believe that Xander knows that, had he married me, I would never have engaged in sexual intercourse outside marriage. And if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have had a child with said partner. Besides, I doubt anyone could outstand Xander in the bedroom." She grinned proudly. "He’s a pistol." 

A long beat of silence settled through the crowd. 

Spike and Buffy exchanged glances. 

Zack and Kelly bit their lips. 

Giles merely froze, unsure what to do. 

Xander paled considerably. "He…Stephen…he’s not my son?" 

"No," Anya replied matter-of-factly, as though she remained perfectly oblivious to the reaction her customary bluntness was receiving. "I know the polite thing to do would have been to keep my mouth shut, but that’s hardly industrious. And since you’re divorcing the vile woman, you might as well clean your hands of the child as well. Especially since he isn’t yours." 

Lisa looked to kill. 

"He…whose is he?" Xander didn’t know whom he was asking and didn’t care. His just wanted an answer. 

"The pool boy’s," Anya retorted. 

"But we don’t have a pool." 

"Not your pool." She pointed at Zack and Kelly. "Their pool. He was from Japan, right? I do not know of anyone else in Sunnydale who looks to be of Asian-dissent. And I distinctly remember going to the Morrises to borrow a tape and seeing Lisa in a rather compromising position with the pool boy. That was nearly five years ago." 

Xander, by this time, was bright red. No one knew if it was from humiliation or anger. The idea that it was both had safely been discarded. "WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING?!" 

Anya shrugged. "You always told me that it was impolite to discuss other people’s orgasms. And truthfully, I never considered Lisa your wife anyway." 

Another long beat. Xander pivoted to his soon-to-be-ex, eyes wide. "Is this…is what she said true?" 

There was no sense in denying it. Guilt was shaded completely over her features. With a weak nod, she acquiesced. "Yes. Stephen…he’s Yen’s son. Not yours." 

Zack nudged Spike. "No wonder he looked like an extra from Godzilla." 

Kelly nudged Buffy. "Lisa had sex in my house! Can we say ew?" 

Rosie nudged Spawn, who had been reverently silent thanks to Willow’s latest hex. The voice-stealer for naughty children. "You’re illygitimate." 

There were several gasps and even more looks of humor. Kelly glanced down in shock. "Rosalie Morris! Where did you learn that word?!" 

Rosie hung her head in shame and pointed to Spike. 

Spike was again whacked repeatedly from too many angles to recount. 

And in the midst of all this, everyone forgot Xander’s dilemma. That is, until, a wide grin spread across his face and he all but leapt in the air and clicked his heels together. "It’s not mine!" he shouted. "The Spawn…the demon child…it’s not mine! I have no responsibility for that thing whatsoever! Yahoo!" He then proceeded to dance erratically around the group of travelers, linked arm-in-arm with Anya. 

Zack sighed and shook his head, grasped his wife’s hand tightly and turned to Giles. "When can we get to that hotel?" he asked. 

"I’m calling a cab right now."


	26. Chapter 26

The next day brought laziness with it, and no one was complaining. After locating a hotel that could accommodate everyone, Giles had barricaded himself into his room and threatened to castrate, stake, or disown anyone who bothered him for any reason. Even if the world was ending. At this point, he claimed to not give a bloody damn. 

Thus, with Giles out of the picture, everyone turned to Spike and Wesley as the only true London experts, ignoring Buffy who tried to remind people that she had lived in London for at least two years. 

Of course, it was in bright midday when Zack finally succumbed to his cabin fever. After weeks of having large castle to roam, the expanse of a considerably small hotel was slowly driving him crazy. The fact that Buffy and Spike had the freedom to do as they pleased when they pleased didn’t help at all with his duress. 

It especially didn’t help when his sire knocked on his window and gleefully demonstrated his non-bursting-into-flames ability by dancing in the sunlight. The sight, which would have been laugh-worthy in any other context, sent Zack into a nasty funk, and he pouted for the rest of the afternoon. 

Around 4PM, Willow came knocking at the door. 

"So sorry," she gasped. "I nearly forgot. Dumbledore had something to give you." She held out a small box. Inside were two matching gems, both inbound in gold bands. 

"Why two?" Kelly asked, ignoring her husband’s random incoherent outburst that immediately ensued. 

Willow simply shrugged and gave her a knowing look. When she moved away, Buffy and Spike were ready behind her, grinning as they awaited their friends to join them. 

Rosie ran ahead of her parents and bound gleefully into Spike’s arms. "Uncle Spike!" 

"’Ello, Bit!" Spike responded, swooping the girl into the air and fitting her over his shoulders. "Ready for a roundabout town?" 

Kelly smiled as she wriggled into her jacket. "Where are we going?" 

"There are about a thousand places…" Buffy began. 

"A little café with the best bloody coffee there is," Spike said. "The place my unlife began." 

The Slayer smiled. "And there’s the Tower of London," she suggested. 

"Oh, right nice," her husband purred in agreement. "That was a bloody place. Ripe with the torture and the pain an’…" He trailed off when he realized he was being stared at and winced, pointing to Rosie who still rested atop his shoulders. "Hey, kid. Don’t be whacking a man holding a Bit." 

Buffy smirked. "You like it when I whack you." 

"That’s beside the point." 

"Kid!" Kelly and Zack protested immediately. 

At that, the Slayer smiled with a nod, struggling to remember what they had been talking about. "Right…the Tower of London. That would be interesting…and educational." 

"Scary?" Kelly asked worriedly, eying her daughter. Even though Rosie didn’t scare easily, she was still only a child. 

"The Tower if London wasn’t that bad," Spike said with a shrug. 

"Says you," Zack retorted. 

"Yeah…and of all of us here…who was actually in the sodding Tower?" Everyone glanced at him blankly. "That’s right." 

"You were in the Tower of London?" Kelly asked in awe. 

He shrugged. "Once or twice. Angelus could tell you more ‘bout that than I could. And yes, it was for sodding ninnies, all right? if you can bloody well survive Hogwarts, the Tower’s hardly worth the fretting." 

Buffy grinned; the same grin that knew well that her husband was trying to appear tough. Having heard several stories herself, she knew he was embellishing the past a bit. Just a bit. Even the big bad William the Bloody had been slightly wigged by the tower in his day. But she wouldn’t tell on him. "There’s the London Walks for tonight," she said. "If you want to take the Jack the Ripper tour." 

"Worth it," Spike nodded. "Though that bloke is overrated, too. And he never paid me the those sodding two pounds he—" 

"You knew Jack the Ripper?" Kelly demanded, mind-boggled. 

"Yeah. Jack the Rip-Off’s more like it. Thought he was a Big Bad." Spike chuckled. "Hell, Dru killed half the girls he was rumored to having offed. he tried to do her in, too." He grew still for a minute, remembering his former’s recent demise. There was not an ounce of sadness in his façade, but he did appear nearly reverent. Despite his lasting hostility against the woman who was his maker, she was inadvertently responsible for getting him where he was today. And for that, he would always be in her debt. When the moment passed, he shook his head with a shrug. "Anyway, the bloke had a good sense of humor. I’m just glad I stopped Darla from siring him when I did. That woulda been a mistake." 

Buffy leapt in before Kelly could question him again. They had meandered far off topic. "All right…the Tower of London, the Jack the Ripper tour…and, it’d be nice to go home." 

Zack frowned. "Home?" 

"The library," Spike clarified. "It was a good home to us for a couple years. We were right happy, weren’t we, pet?" 

"Very," she agreed. "Much better than the Hellmouth. Though I gotta say…I really don’t care where we…" She shut up as soon as she realized she was treading into enemy territory. At his wife’s digression, Spike couldn’t help but grin and swoop to steal a kiss from her lips. 

"Feel the same way, kitten," he told her with a cheeky grin. "Hallmark moment and all. ‘As long as we’ve got each other’ and all that rot?" 

"It’s not rot," Kelly grumbled. 

"Right you are," Zack replied, kissing his wife’s cheek. 

Before they could digress even more, Spike decided to offer another tourist destination to appease the girl atop his shoulders. "We can even visit London Bridge." 

"London Bridge!" Rosie squealed with delight. "Will it be falling down?" 

Spike removed her from his shoulders and merrily swung her around. "Only if you want it to, Sweet Bit." 

"Now," Kelly intervened, laughing in spite of herself. "As much as I am in favor of giving my daughter everything, I must draw the line and tearing down bridges." 

Spike favored her with a skeptically arched brow. He met Zack’s eyes and they exchanged an evil smirk. 

"No!" Buffy cried in protest. "I’m with Kelly on this one. No tearing down bridges." 

"Aw, you’re no fun," Zack complained. 

"You’ve never condemned the burning of a few bridges in the past," Spike observed with a pout. "Why start now?" 

"Those were metaphor bridges, asshole," Buffy retorted irately. "Come on. Let’s just…go to the library." 

Spike and Zack grinned at each other in victory as Buffy turned and began walking in the direction of the Rochester library. 

"It’s sad outside," Rosie observed a few minutes later. 

Her mother frowned and instinctively tightened her grip on her hand. "What do you mean, honey?" 

"Cold and rainy." 

"That’s ‘cause winter’s coming, Bit," Spike replied. 

"What’s winter?" 

"Something that happens when you’re not in California," Zack retorted. "If ever there was a reason to move, it’d be so my daughter can accurately name all the seasons and know what each of them mean." 

"I can’t say anything for the vamps," Kelly added a minute later, "but it is really chilly." 

Again, Zack and Spike grinned at each other evilly. 

"On three?" Zack asked. 

"To hell with the count-off," his sire replied good-naturedly. "The girls’ll pick up." 

On cue, both Buffy and Kelly came to a halt on the sidewalk and pivoted to face them. "Pick up on what?" the latter demanded. 

"You’re not going to do anything nasty, are you?" the Slayer added suspiciously. 

"Who, us?" Zack asked innocently. 

The women growled. 

"No, love," Spike assured her. "Simply another musical moment. Can’t help a man who’s glad to be free of generalized wonkiness, can you?" 

"Spike, so help me—" 

Sire and childe met glances once more and began together, " _All the leaves are brown…"_

When the girls realized what their husbands were up to, they grinned and joined in. "All the leaves are brown…" 

"And the sky is gray." 

Buffy and Kelly grinned, turned around, and continued with their backup. Everyone was blissfully apathetic to the attention they attracted from curious passerbyers. "And the sky is gray." 

_"I’ve been for a walk…"_

_"I’ve been for a waaaaaallllk…"_

_"On a winter's day."_ Zack and Spike grinned and each took a hold of a delighted Rosie. The girl absolutely loved it when her father and uncle burst into random song, and encouraged said events as much as possible. 

" _On a winter's day,"_ the girls agreed in song. 

_"I'd be safe and warm…"_

_"I'd be safe and warm…_

_"If I was in L.A…"_

Buffy and Kelly met each other’s eyes, mouthed ‘Safe?’ at the same time, but shrugged anyway. _"If I was in L.A…"_

_"California dreaming…"_

_"California dreaming…"_ They drew out their respective beats until all were in perfect unison and belted out, _"On such a winter's day!"_

Zack motioned to Spike, as the bandleader, to continue with the next verse. In actuality, he just wanted to hear his sire admit to stopping in a church, even if it was in a song they were not responsible for. Moreover, he also wanted the comical option of watching Spike get into the music as much as the original songwriter did. 

If he were at all aware of his friend’s antics, Spike could care less. _"Stopped into a church,"_ he sang soulfully. _"I passed along the way."_ His tone dropped stylishly and he belted out with heart, _"Well, I got down on my knees!"_

Buffy and Kelly nearly doubled over at that, but were able to continue. _"Got down on my knees…"_

_"And I pretend to pray!"_

They giggled. _"I pretend to pray."_

_"You know the preacher likes the cold."_

_"Preacher likes the cold."_

Spike grinned evilly and winked. _"He thinks I’m kinda cute."_

The girls’ eyes narrowed, but they complied dryly. _"Thinks I’m kinda cute…"_

The look on the Cockney’s face rivaled any canary-swallowing cat. He was positively giddy, and no one really knew why. It could have been any measure of reasons. Newfound freedom. The challenge. Having his best friend immortalized right along with him. It didn’t matter. His jollity was contagious, and no one was complaining. _"California dreaming…"_

_"California dreaming…"_

_"On such a winter's day!"_

Everyone returned for a gleeful round of the last stanza. _"All the leaves are brown…"_

_"All the leaves are brown…"_

_"And the sky is gray."_

_"And the sky is gray,"_ the women concluded as the library came into sight. 

_"I've been for a walk…"_

_"I've been for a walk…"_

Spike suddenly performed a three-sixty with his hands outstretched, as though to verify the weather. _"On a winter's day."_

_"On a winter's day."_

_"If I didn't tell her…"_

_"If I didn't tell her…"_

_"I could leave today."_

_"I could leave today."_

_"California dreaming…"_

_"California dreaming…"_

_"On such a winter's day…"_

_"California dreaming…"_

_"On such a winter's day…"_

_"California dreaming…on such a winter's day!"_

They came to a dramatic halt and were appraised by random people on the street who appreciated their performance. One man, dissatisfied with the racket, gave them the two-finger salute. Spike gave it right back. As did Zack, Kelly, Buffy, and Rosie. Rosie, of course, thought he was waving, thus performed it with a friendly grin. The adults found this too amusing to reprimand her and chuckled as they entered the place that had been the Bloody’s home in the years prior to their fated meeting those years ago. 

*~*~*

There was still much to decide—too much to attribute to one conversation going to or from Los Angeles. What was known now was of the minimal. Josh and Donna had parted ways when they switched planes in New York, Donna and Dawn promising to keep in contact with each other. They had, after all, grown close throughout the switching off as Rosie’s babysitter. From there, Angel, Clarice, Wesley, Cordelia, and Lorne would be dropped off at Angel Investigations. Angel was accompanying them based solely on picking up where he left off before his soul was extracted years ago. Clarice was tagging along because she wanted to start things up again. It was unanimously decided that they would miss Lorne the most of all. 

"I promise to call you, kiddies," he had told them in response. "Couldn’t live without my daily soap opera, could I?" 

Los Angeles was the home of one final stop. While they were perusing the library in London (after laughing at Spike and Buffy’s little choreography number designed to elude the skylights that they went into out of habit, despite their rings) Zack and Kelly had felt a similar tug of nostalgia. They decided to drop by Bayside to see how the alma mater was. From there, it was to Sunnydale. 

Home sweet Hellmouth. 

The flight alone, however, was the most trying experience. Distractions galore. Buffy and Spike were still celebrating their newfound closeness, acting even more coupley than before, and sneaking into the back to "ask the flight-attendants for Dr. Pepper and salted-peanuts." Apparently, this was a hot commodity, as they felt the need to do so every ten to fifteen minutes, and were usually gone longer than they stayed sitting. 

That was hardly the all of the trip. After switching planes in New York, Spike had had far too much fun interrupting the flight attendant throughout the safety lecture with little sardonic questions. She had all but threatened to throw him off by the time it was finished. 

"Ummm, ma’am?" he asked innocently at the beginning. "Why did you ask me to get on the plane? Doesn’t it seem more logical to get in the plane? There’s less wind in here." 

She gave him a dirty look. Buffy and Kelly thwapped him. Zack merely chuckled and shook his head. 

"Just asking," he said with a shrug. 

"Sir, this is a nonstop flight, and I really don’t want to put up with any shenanigans on—" 

"Nonstop?" he replied, all talk. In the back, Giles groaned. It was going to be a long, long flight. "Abso-bloody-lutely not. I insist that my flight stop. Preferably at an airport." 

"Spike…" Kelly warned lowly. 

"What? I’m asking the lady a question." 

"You’re being an ass." 

"’S my specialty." He raised his hand. "Oi! I got another question, pet. Wha’s the chances of hitting another plane in the air?" 

"What?" 

"Just wondering." 

The flight attendant rolled her eyes. "I assure you, it’s very unlikely that—" 

"And why do they call it a near-miss when that happens?" he wondered. "’S a near-hit, if you ask me. A collusion is a near-miss." He clapped his hands together theatrically, and mimicked in a poor Americanized tenor. "‘Look, they nearly missed.’" 

"For God’s sake," Giles growled from the back. "Shut up, you cream-faced loon." 

The flight attendant nodded her agreement and continued the safety lecture. "Place the small metal into the buckle." 

Spike automatically seized the bait and raised his hand. "Over here, please! Over here!" 

Buffy glowered at him, but he merely grinned unrepentantly. 

"I’m sorry, I just need clarification," he continued. "Did you say place the small metal flap into the buckle or place the buckle over and around the small metal flap? I’m a simple man, and I do not possess an engineering degree, nor am I mechanically inclined. Seatbelt’s are high tech where I’m from." 

"Spike, leave the nice lady alone," his wife berated, though it was very obvious that her objection came more from obligation than any real desire to bottle his nuisance making. 

"Well, they are, love," he reminded her, grinning like a lunatic. "I didn’t have such a sodding luxury in my day, if you recall. My hundred and fifty second birthday’s coming up." 

"Yeah, and you never use them when you’re driving around the DeSoto," Zack pointed out. 

Spike smirked at him before turning back to the brassed flight attendant. "So sorry. Thanks ever so for your time, and please continue with the wonderful safety lecture." He flashed a smile. 

The flight attendant gave him a dirty look but continued anyway. She managed to get through the location of the emergency exits without hazard, but could not stop Spike from voicing his opinion throughout the entire presentation. 

"In the unlikely event," she was saying, "of a sudden change in cabin pressure…" 

"In other words," Spike interrupted, "if the roof flies off?" 

She gave him another dirty look but did not deign herself to reply. "...an oxygen mask will drop down in front of you. Place the mask over your face and breathe normally." 

At that, Xander seemed to pick up on the game and jumped in. "Well," he said matter-of-factly to Spike, who chuckled in spite of himself. "No problem there. I always breathe normally when I'm in a six-hundred-mile-an-hour uncontrolled vertical dive. I also shit normally. Right in my pants." 

Spike threw his head back and laughed. "All right, Stay Puft! Joining in the fun!" 

"What can I say?" Xander shrugged. "I’m in a good mood." 

"I would be, too," Zack observed, "if I just learned I wasn’t responsible for the Spawn." 

As the troublemakers multiplied, the flight attendant became more and more irate. "Please adjust your oxygen mask before assisting your child with his." 

"I did not need to be told that!" Xander cracked; ignoring the pissed-off look Lisa was sending him from across the plane. "In fact, I’m probably going to be too busy screaming to help him at all. This is a good time for him to learn self-reliance." 

"Xander!" Cordelia admonished.

"He’s not my kid, anyway," Harris replied with a shrug. "And if he can program a VCR, he can goddamn jolly-well learn how to operate an oxygen mask." 

"He’s four years old!" Lisa argued bitterly. "He can’t program a VCR!" 

"Yes, and that would be what we civilized folk refer to as, The Point." 

"And even so," Spike added with a grin. "And oxygen mask is not nearly as complicated as—say—a seatbelt." 

At that, everyone broke into chuckles. The flight attendant fought for control. 

"In the unlikely event of a water landing…" 

Spike again raised his hand. 

"Yes, sir?" she demanded hotly. 

"What exactly is a water landing?" he asked innocently. "’Is just me, or does this sound relative to crashing into the ocean?" 

"Your seat cushion can be used as a floatation device!" The poor girl was practically screaming by now, but no one took pity on her. In fact, her duress caused Zack to leap to attention and jump into the game. 

"Well," Xander said, "imagine that. A seat cushion. Just what we all need. To float around the North Atlantic for several days…clinging to a pillow full of beer farts!" 

Everyone burst out laughing again. 

"I give up," Giles said resignedly. 

The flight attendant concluded her safety lecture and sat down with a grumble, competing with her coworkers to decide who would do the closing lecture. When Spike rose to his feet and tugged Buffy after him into the back once more, no one voiced a complaint, or said anything at all. Not even when several crashing sounds rang into the main hold, followed by guttural grunts and moans of release, followed slowly by a return to coda after the fourth repeat. 

The two made it back to their seats in time to hear the closing announcements. They similarly ignored all knowingly smug glances, as well as phased spots of noted indignation. Neither bothered to look at Giles at all. 

"Did you have fun in the bathroom, Uncle Spike?" Rosie asked as she awoke from her nap. 

"Oh, loads and loads, Sweet Bit," Spike said with a smirk. 

"Just for that," Kelly said, shaking her head. "You owe her all the toys in California. Possibly Utah as well." 

"She’ll understand someday," Buffy said with a satisfied smile, curling into her husband’s side as exhaustion washed over her. 

"Not if I can help it, she won’t," Zack growled protectively. 

"Right with you, Zangy," Spike agreed, looking horribly affronted that his niece would ever learn the true method of reproduction. 

Buffy and Kelly exchanged a bemused glance. 

The flight attendant, after an unsuccessful round in attempting to convince her colleagues to help her out, moved begrudgingly to the front. "The captain has turned on the fasten seat-belt sign," she announced. 

As predicted, Spike couldn’t let that one sit. "’S there a reason you’re telling us who turned it on, pet?" he wondered. "’S on, isn’t it? And who made this man a captain, might I ask? Did I sleep through some sort of armed forces swearing in ceremony?" 

"You were in the back for the majority of the flight," Zack pointed out. He went consequentially ignored. 

Xander shook his head. "He’s a pilot, and let him be happy with that. If those sight-seeing announcements are any mark of intelligence, he’s lucky to be working at all." 

"And who are you to be commenting on intelligence?" Giles grumbled from the back. 

The flight attendant grumbled to herself, looked to the ceiling and asked, ‘Why me?’ in silent question, before continuing. "Before leaving the aircraft, please check around your immediate seating area for any personal belongings you might have brought on board." 

"Immediate seating area?" Spike asked skeptically. "Also known as, seat? Check around your seat? For any personal belongings? As opposed to public belongings? Do any if us look to be traveling with a fountain we stole from the park?" He chuckled and shook his head. "That we might have brought on board? Well, I might’ve brought my copy of T.S. Eliot’s Complete Annotated Works. I didn’t…so I’m not gonna bloody look for it. I’m gonna look for things I brought on board. It’d seem to enhance the likelihood of my finding something, wouldn’t you say?" 

She glared at him but continued. "We will be landing shortly—" 

"Does that mean we’re gonna miss the runway?" Zack asked. 

"—to begin the final approach." 

Spike glanced to Zack with a skeptical arch of the brow. "That’s just not a good word to be using with air-travel," he said. "Final rot and all that." 

"Very much of the agreed," his friend replied. 

Thankfully, throughout the entire landing procedure, the passengers remained silent. The flight attendant was on her last nerve when she reached for the mic again. "Welcome John Wayne International Airport—" 

Couldn’t even get through one sentence without being chopped to bits. 

"Oi! Pet!" Spike called out. "You just got here, yourself! How can you possibly welcome us to a place you’re not even at yet? Doesn’t this violate some fundamental law of physics?" 

"Where the local time is—" 

Xander said, "Well, of course it’s the local time. What did you think we were expecting? The time in Pango-Pango?" 

"—11:35AM. Enjoy your stay in Los Angeles, or wherever your final destination might be." 

"All destinations are final," Zack offered. "That’s what it means: destiny. If you haven’t gotten where you’re going, you aren’t there yet." 

Spike patted his childe on the back. "Well said, Zangy." 

"Thank you." 

Commentary aside, the plane arrived without consequence. Everyone was more than happy to meet the Los Angeles ground. 

"Forget dropping us off," Cordelia said to the gang. "We’ll catch a taxi." 

"The rest of us—save Buffy and Spike—will be heading to Sunnydale immediately," Giles verified. "No offense, Zack, but as much as I’d love to meet your former principal, I am dying—pardon the pun—to get home. Even if it is the Hellmouth." 

Zack grinned and nodded. He had expected as much. "No problem." 

It was most understood. 

*~*~*

To say Mr. Richard Belding was surprised to see his longtime favorite student ten years matured walk into the principal’s office of Bayside High School was the most outrageous understatement anyone could conjure. 

"Mr. Balding!" he said jovially, as though the atmosphere alone was enough to send him back into the shoes of an unruly student. "Long time no see!" 

"Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!" Belding said after the shock wore off, rising to his feet. "Zack Morris!" 

"And family." Zack stepped aside with a grin to reveal Kelly and Rosie. 

"Kelly!" Belding cried, taking her into an embrace. "And who’s this little tyke?" 

The girl blushed and hid her face in her mother’s skirt. "Wosie," she answered, voice muffled with fabric. 

"And how old are you, Rosie?" 

She bashfully held up five fingers. 

"Aren’t you just a peach? And definitely Zack Morris’s daughter." Beamingly, Belding returned to full height. "Well, this is an unexpected pleasure. What are you all up to?" 

Zack chuckled, somewhat nervously. "Oh, this and that." He turned to Spike and Buffy, whom had gone all but ignored since they stepped into the office. "Mr. Belding, I’d—" 

"Zack, please. We’re both adults here. It’s Richard." 

He smiled sheepishly. "With as often as I called you that back in the day, it feels slightly awkward with your permission," he explained. "Mr. Belding, I need to introduce you to my…" He frowned. "Ummm…my…" 

"Pap," Spike intervened. "I’m his…well, that doesn’t work." 

"Brother?" Buffy offered. 

Belding frowned in confusion. "I thought Zack was an only child." 

"Oh, I am!" Zack clarified. "I so completely am. But…erm…it’s a little difficult to…ehhh…explain. Let’s just say…they’re close, close friends of the family. They practically, well they are family. But they’re not." 

Spike grinned at his friend and shook his head, stepping forward, stride sleekly aligned with balls and swagger. He wasn’t a man of much height or incredible size, but it was easy to forget simply with the aura he released. "Name’s Spike, mate," he said, grasping Belding’s hand in a hearty shake. 

"Spike?" The Principal repeated. 

"Has been for the past hundred and twenty five years, I reckon." He shrugged, ignoring the looks of warning he was receiving. "But I s’pose, if it bothers you, you can call me William." 

"He can?" Zack asked. 

"I have tact at times," Spike replied defensively. "if the old bugger’s in so much of a snit, maybe—" 

"Oh boy," Kelly said, head dropping to her hand. "Here we go." 

"No, no," Belding said, deciding to ignore the claim that Spike had been the man’s name for the better of a century and a quarter. "Spike is fine. Mr. Spike…?" 

"The Bloody." 

"What?" 

"Erm, Spike Bloody," Zack intervened. "Bloody bizarre name, isn’t it? Well, you can’t tell with these Brits anymore. This is William ‘Spike’ The Bloody, erm just Bloody. And his wife, Buffy." 

"Buffy Bloody?" Belding repeated. 

"Actually, it’s Elizabeth," Buffy said with a nervous little smile. "Well, legally anyway. My mother always called me Buffy, though, so I decided to stick with it." 

"’S Bennett," Spike said softly. "Bloody’s just another nickname. William ‘Spike’ Bennett. Got nicknamed ‘the Bloody’ when I was a youngling ‘cause of my bloody awful…haircut." 

Kelly, Zack, and Buffy all looked at him quizzically. 

He gave him a returning look that read just to go with it. 

"He used to impale people with railroad spikes!" Rosie proclaimed proudly. 

Zack started chuckling. "That’s…that’s a little joke. Ummm, so, Mr. Belding, what’s new here at Bayside?" 

The principal seemed more than willing to forget the past five minutes had even existed, and nodded on cue. "Nothing, really," he said. "Same old, same old. Actually, I was just on my way to class. We’re doing that marriage project again. Remember that?" 

"Oh yeah." Zack turned to wink at Kelly, who blushed and glanced away. "And look how that turned out."

"That reminds me, how is everyone else? Slater, Jessie, Lisa, Screech…?" 

The room grew quiet at that. 

"Screech is a congressman," Kelly finally offered. "And Lisa’s in the process of divorcing her husband…or being divorced from her husband…" 

"Jessie and Slater…" Buffy intervened before Zack’s still-palpable misplacement could get the better of him. "We—I mean they—lost them in a car accident recently." 

"Oh." Belding’s face fell. "They were always such good kids." 

"Wankers," Spike muttered. Thankfully, he went unheard. 

After the obligatory moment of silence had passed, Belding released a long sigh and returned to his original train of thought. "Well, as graduates of Bayside, would you like to demonstrate to the students what this project entails? I’m sure it’d be much appreciated." He nodded at the vampires they had brought with them. "Your…friends are more than welcome to join as well. Even participate." 

Zack turned to Kelly with a familiar devilish look in his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "That’d be fun." 

Ten minutes later, they were standing in a very familiar classroom, an aging Mr. Dewey occupying the back wall. Once Belding had described the project to the observers and participants, he turned to read the situation to the class and prepare the first guinea pigs. 

"I want you two to act normal," he told Spike and Buffy, who gave him a skeptical glance. "No, really! Just do what you’d do regardless. It’ll be beneficial for the students to see how a real married couple reacts to these situations." 

They met each other’s eyes and shrugged. That was easy enough. 

Zack and Kelly also looked at each other; their gaze one of trepidation. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

"Terrific. Now, the situation is the following: Buffy has come home from work after eating nothing all day. Spike has been home all day doing nothing. What will they do to resolve the problem?" He turned to the waiting Slayer, who was eying her husband hungrily. "Whenever you’re ready." 

Buffy nodded and prowled forward with intent. Spike lay resignedly against the improvisational sofa and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. 

"Hey honey." 

"’Lo, pet. Good day at work?" 

"It was all right. I’m starved. You?" 

With a slow, seductive smirk, Spike rose to his feet and stepped boldly into her personal space. "Famished," he agreed huskily. 

And that was it. Their mouths hungrily attacked each other, seeking, biting, nibbling as hands roamed shoulders, hips, thighs, and— 

"Hey hey hey hey hey! What is going on—" 

"With all due respect, Mr. B," Kelly said meekly as she guided her daughter’s eyes from the sight of her closest friends pulling impatiently at each other’s clothing. "You did ask them to be themselves." 

"And this is what they do," Zack agreed. 

Buffy pushed Spike back to the sofa and straddled his thighs. He began to tug on her shirt. 

"Stop this right now!" 

The horny teenage audience groaned their displacement as Buffy hazily pulled away from her husband. His hands were resting comfortably at her hips, and he used the leverage granted to demonstratively thrust his now aching predicament against her, quirking a defiant brow in Belding’s direction. The Slayer moaned and moved inward to kiss him again, then realized that they did have an audience, and they broke apart with a low, dissatisfied grumble. 

"There will be none of that on school grounds!" Belding snapped. 

Spike shrugged with a cocky, shit-eating grin. He led Buffy over to the corner and guided her deftly to his lap again, so that they might watch the show that Zack and Kelly put on. 

"I should’ve known with the kind of friends you make, Morris," Belding grumbled. "Would you and Kelly like to reiterate, please? Show them how we do things around here? Same scenario." 

Zack smiled devilishly. 

Kelly caught his grin. 

And they proceeded to do the exact same thing. 

"ZACK MORRIS!" 

"What?" Zack demanded with a grin when they were forced to pull away. "You said same scenario!" 

Belding rolled his eyes and ordered them out of the classroom. 

"Yep," Spike said, rising to his feet to follow the group out. "That’s definitely my childe. Takes after his Pap." 

"You’re a bad man," Buffy scolded. 

"The baddest," he agreed with a mischievous grin, tightening his arm about her waist. "Now…whaddya say we find ourselves a broom closet?" 

*~*~*

"How much longer should we give them?" Kelly asked as her and Zack passed by the broom closet in question for the third time in half an hour. Zack gently squeezed her hand as he shrugged. 

He smirked as he added, "If they aren't done in fifteen I'll send a student to open it up." 

"You're still just giddy that you aren't having to worry about loitering the halls during class, aren't you?"

"Did I really worry beforehand?" 

"Well..." Kelly conceded. "At least there is no worry about detention." 

"This feels so weird coming back here, Kel. I thought that I'd feel some nostalgia like I did I came before we got married, but nope. All I feel is...wrong." 

"And they remodeled the building." Both grinned when Kelly completely ignored her husband's statement. They understood that things had changed. They weren't the same people that left the country a few days ago and they certainly weren't the same naïve people that roamed these halls just a few short years ago. 

"Don't forget Mr. Belding's office," he added after a moment of personal reflection. "That one gets me still." 

"Did you expect him to call you up for decorating tips, hon?" 

"Well, it would have been a nice gesture." Kelly rolled her eyes as they made their way to the trophy cabinet. As she spotted awards from her days as head cheerleader and captain of the softball and volleyball team, she giggled. "Let's not let Spike see these." 

"He already knows about your cheerleading, Pom-Pom," he teased causing his wife to throw his a dirty look. He then leaned over to see the picture that went along with the 1992 California State Head Cheerleader Award, and couldn't help but snicker. She looked as cute as ever, but the eighties hair was all too much. "OK. I agree. No telling Spike." 

"If you do then I'm whipping out the yearbooks once and for all to show him some of your hairstyles." 

"Fine," Zack said throwing his hands in the air. "Don't start getting snippy there, woman." 

"Well, I don’t know 'bout you, but I wanna see the picture in this cabinet," Spike drawled as he walked up behind the couple. He combed his fingers through his hair as he checked to make sure his pants were zipped. 

Buffy followed behind, straightening her hair as she tried to adjust her disheveled attire. "Sure. Anything to get off the jokes of us in a broom closet." 

"Oh no," Zack grinned. "They will come, but I wanna wait till the car ride home. Not to mention that it was in my old high school." He then turned to his wife. "Why can't I get some action in the ole alma mater?" 

The question went choicely ignored as Spike and Buffy caught sight of the picture in question. Spike keeled over in hysterics as Buffy turned to Kelly with a look of amusement and awe. "You were actually a California State Head Cheerleader Award winner?" 

"She would have gotten it her senior year too, but she was doing some modeling and had some scheduling conflicts." 

"I hate you," Buffy muttered before looking at the hair and snickering. 

"That's it," Kelly grumbled. "We're breaking out the yearbooks when we get home." 

"You both have eighties hair!," Spike cackled as he caught glimpse of Zack's picture in the track team display case. 

"Shut up, Ken," Zack grumbled. "At least my wife was California State Head Cheerleader." 

"My bloody wife saved you and California." 

"Well...mine got a modeling job in France." 

"Get out," Buffy said looking up at her with shock. "You never told me that." 

"It didn't last long. My grades started slipping my senior year so I had to give it up." 

Zack rolled his eyes to the two other blonde vampires. "Alright. You guys had your fun. Now can we finish this thing and get out of here." 

This caused Spike to sing song, "Some one isn’t getting any." 

"Sod off," Zack growled before looking to the amused glance his wife was casting. 

"Zack, if you’re jealous of the broom closet thing then we can head right over and test it out. But I would consider that you would probably want a bigger setting for any of our…discretions." 

"Before I give my husband the floor to play with that comment, I have to ask where is Rosie?" The Slayer asked looking around the empty halls. 

"Don’t worry," Zack grinned. "Kel and I dropped her off in the child development room about twenty minutes ago. We figured that she could give them a run for their money." 

"That and the whole room practically kidnapped her when we went by to see Mrs. Worthington," Kelly said with a smile that mimicked her husband’s relief. 

"You bloody sods," Spike grumbled. "All three if you stepped right over my quips on Zangy being too big for the broom closet." 

"I know," Zack said cheekily. "And I hope to do it again with the hair issues." 

"Don’t count on it," The Cockney said pointing a finger for emphasize then reaching into his pocket to pull out his pack of Marlboros. 

"No," Kelly said forcefully ripping the cigarettes away from the vampire. Spike was in too much shock to fight against. He knew that she didn’t like the habit, but she had never done that before. She realized it too and shrugged after tucking the pack in her purse. "I don’t know, but I have this bad feeling that you shouldn’t do that here." 

"But you let me smoke in the hospital," Spike pointed out. "And there sick people. But I cand have a bloody fag ‘round a bunch of teenagers?" 

He did have a point. Kelly had long ago resigned to the fact that the price she paid for having her husband and Spike visit her in the middle of her late night shifts would be that Spike would have to smoke a couple cigarettes in the cafeteria. But for some reason this was feeling worse. "Maybe its that drug free commercial that we put on for NBC."

"How about the basement?" Zack pondered. He was feeling a nicotine craving now and all knew that stepping out in the bright sunshine was not an option. Though it was, but momentarily all forgot about the gifts that Dumbledore had born to them. 

"I guess," Kelly said uneasily. 

"I don’t like the sound of this," Buffy commented as they walked toward the door. "Something about high school basements just gives me the wiggins. Whether on a Hellmouth or not." 

As the group sauntered down the stairs, things seemed as ordinary as ever. Zack and Spike bantered back and forth about something the girls never caught while Buffy and Kelly talked about their lack of comfort in both American and British schools. 

Zack stopped in mid-sentence as they reached the bottom stair. 

After a moment of silence, Spike slowly nodded. "Yeah. Somethings wrong here." Instinctively, the three vampires surrounded Kelly as they trekked slowly forward. 

As they approached the room with the bad vibes, Spike reached out and turned the doorknob. All their jaws dropped as they caught sight of the contents. 

"No way!" Zack said looking around at the décor. The scene was one they had all seen many times before—in Sunnydale. 

"Does this mean…demons are at Bayside?" Kelly asked. 

"Shoulda known something was wonky ‘bout this place," Spike said sensing that any demon that was summoned here wasn’t occupying the room. He reached over and whipped his smokes out of Kelly’s purse and lit one up. 

Zack grabbed one as well as he began rummaging through the contents of the room. He flipped through a couple books as he puffed away. "I think that whoever it is has been practicing for a bit." 

"But I don’t understand," Kelly said shaking her head. "Who would have done this? Who could do this without Mr. Belding’s knowledge?" 

"Hey hey hey. What’s going on here?" Belding said storming in the room. His eyes grew wide as he fully realized who were occupying the area. 

"Mr. B?" Zack asked arching a brow. Then it dawned on him. "Oh bugger. You did this." 

"I…uhhh…" 

"Mr. Belding summons demons?" Kelly was beyond shocked. She instinctively turned and swatted Buffy’s arm. "You were supposed to sense the badness." 

"Hello!" she said slapping her back. "What was the whole speech about getting the wiggins about?" 

"What kind?" Spike asked unable to hide a mild amount of amusement. Whatever it was, it hadn’t killed the man so he considered it nearly harmless. 

"I don’t." Belding’s poker face was beyond readable. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. And demons? I don’t know that slang." 

"Demons," Kelly said slowly. "It isn’t a slang but terminology for creatures that…" She looked at Spike and Buffy. "Honestly I don’t know if I could give textbook definition. Ugly things that do unkind deeds. Except for good ones like Lorne." 

"Right," Spike said stepping forward. "Doesn’t matter. I believe this chap here knows what a demon is and even summoned one. Isn’t that right?" 

"I…" Ge cast his gaze down to the ground before continuing on. "I used it to keep the students in line. Nothing more." 

The room grew silent and it was Zack who was to speak first. "You summoned a Habetchi demon to Bayside? How many years ago?" 

Mr. Belding stood in awe. "Zack, how did you know it was a Habetchi demon?" 

Zack shrugged before sharing the brief sheepish smile with his wife. "Kelly and I momentarily considered it one night when Rosie was having a terrible-two moment." 

"Back to the point," Spike grumbled. He then momentarily broke his rule to add, "And Zangy’s getting an arse kicking when we leave here. You don’t summon Habetchi demons when a simply spell coulda done the trick. I’m just ashamed now. You call yourself a slacker. Which one do you think takes the more effort—" 

"Spike," Buffy growled before turning back to Belding. "Let’s just get over the fact that we know what a Habetchi demon is and get on to the fact to how long has it been here and whether lives are even remotely in danger." 

"Well, I found out about it a couple years after I started at Bayside. All it does is keep the kids in line and makes sure that they don’t do anything too bad on Bayside property." 

"You mean we were under the power of a demon all this time?" 

"It affects all Bayside students, past and present when they are on school property," Belding explained. 

"That explains so much," Zack said with a distant nod as he turned to speak to what appeared to be a water radiator. "That would explain the smoking incident upstairs and the reason why in the locker room Kelly would never let me—" 

"Zack," Kelly said face growing red. "Remember that you are speaking out loud. To the water heater." 

"Yeah," he said turning back to the group. He ignored the curious looks as he pointed out. "But what about me? I wasn’t any different on or off Bayside property, and I surely don’t think that I was a good student."

"It never worked on you," Belding admitted. "I was just glad that you were never a mean spirited kid. But I never understood why the demon’s powers didn’t affect you like the others." 

Zack took a second to try and gather his bearing, but realized that it would take a few minutes. "TIME OUT!" He called before turning to talk again to the water heater. "OK. So I just found out that on top of all the other dysfunctional aspects of my life that my high school principal summons demons that those demons seem not to affect me." 

"Don’t forget the whole sodding talking to bloody appliances," Spike said wide eyed. "Maybe you should add in the whole mentally unstable part too." 

"Time out?" Buffy asked. 

"I don’t know!" Zack said throwing his hands in the air. "I just started doing this back in school. I told you that I say ’time out’ and everything freezes." 

"I thought you were sloshed," Spike admitted as he turned to see Kelly and Belding frozen in time. "But I have two words—bloody fantastic." 

"You can freeze time?" Buffy hadn’t heard this before. 

"Obviously only here. Trust me, I try it everywhere I go." 

"So you aren’t affected by the demon and you can freeze time." 

"Don’t ask about the talking to things. I thought that people were there, but I might just have an only child complex," Zack stated. 

"So you can say ‘time ing and bring them back anytime?" When Zack nodded, the platinum vampire’s eyes lit up and he pressed his fingertips together. "Excellent." 

*~*~*

Though eager to get back home, they took their time in Los Angeles before getting on the road once again. A few phone calls showed that Melody and Derek Morris were out of town in Seattle, while the Kapowski family was simply too busy to entertain. They ordered takeout and spent the time in the school cafeteria talking about their youths and the strangeness behind Zack’s conditions at Bayside.

Shortly after sunset approached the Palisades, they were racing toward home. "I can't wait," Kelly giggled as they turned on the freeway. She looked down at her daughter who was nestled between Buffy and herself and added, "And I think someone is a bit sleepy." 

"I am not," Rosie said with a yawn. 

"So...are we there yet?" Spike teased Zack. He was slightly bitter that he couldn't drive, but they couldn't think of a plausible way to get his name on the policy at the car rental. 

"Five more minutes, Pap," Zack snickered. Then he sighed. "I'm just glad that we didn't have to explain that the reason we wanted ‘red wine’ with our dinner." 

"Have you guys talked to Rosie yet about...?" Buffy left the question unfinished. 

"Yeah," Kelly smiled first at Buffy then down at her daughter. "You understand about Daddy, don't you?" 

"Daddy is like Uncle Spike and Aunt Buffy now. He's a vampwire." 

"Very good," Zack said looking in the rearview mirror. "You get a cookie. Spike, give the girl a cookie." The platinum vampire searched for a cookie but settled on giving her a handful of Weetabix from the box he was munching on. 

"Eat that and then snuggle down," Kelly said pulling her daughter’s shoes off. "You’ll need to sleep some before we get home." She laughed when she saw Rosie already struggling to fight off sleep. "I promise you won’t miss anything. In fact, Momma will probably fall asleep in a bit too." 

"That’s right," Buffy pointed out. "You have a baby to think about." 

"That and I’m not a creature of the night." As everyone laughed she muttered under her breath, "Yet." 

"Will you sing me a song or tell me a story first?" Rosie asked as she chomped down on the last of her snack.

"Sure," Spike spoke up. "I can tell you a good story." 

"Umm…" Zack said casting him a weary look. 

"Fine," Spike conceded. "Guess we do wanna get her to sleep tonight." 

"Exactly. So let’s say I just flip on the radio and find a decent song to put you down with." 

"Only if you sing too, Daddy and Uncle Spike," Rosie said as Zack began turning the dial in search of a good song. 

_"And I'd rather stay and play. 'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong. And I'm down to get the friction on."_

_"Zack?"_ Kelly demanded. 

_"So, ladies! {Yeah!} Ladies! {Yeah}. If you wanna ride in my Mercedes {Yeah!} Then turn around! Stick it out! Even white boys got to shout. Baby got back!"_

Spike and Zack immediately turned the sounds of Sir Mix-A-Lot off before Rosie’s virgin ears could hear a minute more. "Well," Zack said after a moment of feeling his wife’s and Buffy angered gazes against his back. "Maybe Spike’s story would have been better after all." 

"At last it wasn’t Pimp Juice," Spike drawled as he lit up a smoke and rolled down the window. "That woulda been a doozy to explain." 

"What’s pim—" Buffy covered her mouth with one hand as she slapped her husband’s head with the other. 

"For someone that’s supposed to have so much more knowledge and life experience, you can be a real dumb-ass at times." 

Before Spike could get a pained expression, Zack snapped back with. "And you’re the dolt who married him." 

"Did you just call my wife a dolt? Zangy—" 

"OK," Kelly broke in. "I guess have to break this up. Also might I mention that you owe a little girl back here a song." 

"That’s right," Zack said praying as he turned the radio back on that Baby Got Back was done. Luckily the song was over and the DJ was currently coming back from his radio promotion speech to put on the next song. 

The blonde duo in the front seats shared a look when recognizing the 80s style music and bobbed their heads through the instrumental introduction before starting in with the low tenor that was, _"Life's like a road that you travel on. When there's one day here and the next day gone."_

Rosie’s giggles filled the car. 

_"Sometimes you bend sometimes you stand. Sometimes you turn your back to the wind. There's a world outside every darkened Door. Where blues won't haunt you anymore. Where the brave are free and lovers soar."_

The men turned to glance back at their wives as they sang, " _Come ride with me to the distant shore. We won't hesitate break down the garden gate. There's not much time left today."_

Then they turned forward and belted out in their loudest voices, "Life is a highway. I want to ride it all night long. If you're going my way, I want to drive it all night long." 

_"Through all the cities and all these towns. It's in my blood and it's all around. I love you now like I loved you then. This is the road and these are the hands. From Mozambique to those Memphis nights. The Khyber pass to Vancouver’s lights. Knock me down get back up again. You're in my blood I'm not a lonely man."_

They now seemed to be singing their declaration. " _There's no load I can't hold. Road so rough this I know. I'll be there when the light comes in. Tell 'em we're survivors!"_

The girls were too busy laughing as the men belted through the chorus the first time but contained them long enough during the second refrain to hear Zack go, _"Mmmm…Life is a highway. I want to ride it all night long. Givealittlegimmemeyeah!"_

The men took no time to laugh before going to the bridge. _"There was a distance between you and I."_ They looked at their spouses before looking to each other. " _A misunderstanding once but now we look it in the eye. Ohhh!"_

They banged their heads through the instrumental break as Zack stepped harder on the gas pedal and seemed not to notice the car pushing 80. "Mmmmm." The men sang once again at the top of their lungs, _"There's no load I can't hold. Road so rough this I know. I'll be there when the light comes in. Tell 'em we're survivors!"_

_"Life is a highway. I wanna ride it all night long."_

Zack took on the feminine part to say " _Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah."_ While Spike took over the main part solo _. "If you going my way. I wanna drive it all night long. Givealittlegimmemeyeah!"_

The two kept repeating the chorus until it faded off radio and Zack turned it off once more. 

"Honey," Kelly said softly as her giggles began to fade as well. "You know you’re going 90 miles per hour, right?" 

"Oh," Zack said staring down at the speedometer and easing his foot off the pedal. "I guess I had just decided to avoid the scenic route if we’re driving this highway all night long." 

"Do it again," Rosie cackled with pure joy. 

"Not tonight, Bit," Spike stated. "Time for you to get some shut eye." 

The next half an hour was mostly quiet as everyone was waiting for the child to get to sleep. It took a group effort since she was so riled up after Spike and Zack’s performance featuring Tom Cochrane on background vocals, but eventually she drifted off. "She’s out," Kelly whispered as she continued to stroke the girl’s hair." 

"Wow," Buffy sighed. "We’re almost home." 

"Still a couple of hours," Zack pointed out. "But I know what you mean. Honestly for a while I didn’t know if we’d ever be home again." 

The car was silent a moment before Spike spoke up. "I’m not one for beating ‘round the bush." He stopped to chuckle at himself. "Well, I am, but not in the figurative sense." 

"Spike," Kelly lowly growled. Sleeping or not, she didn’t want to try and explain another innuendo. 

"Yeah. What I mean ‘s…‘s Sunnydale going to still be home?" 

Zack swallowed as he glanced back to judge his wife’s reaction. He decided to speak. "Well. Kelly and I have done a little discussing you know. Even before this trip. We said that we wanted to check out other cities before Pigtails got in school." 

"Zack also said that he didn’t want to have another child in Sunnydale," Kelly nervously pointed out before biting her lip. 

"Guys," Buffy said calmly. "Don’t freak out. We know this. And we’ve already decided that we’re going to go wherever that is with you." She saw the looks on both Morris’s faces and elaborated. "Not just because Spike needs his Rosie time and I need someone to help me on laundry day." She smiled at Kelly. "And it wouldn’t even consider it all because of Zack’s new found deadness. It’s because we are family. We all need each other and we’ll all stick together. Eternally." 

Kelly sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye. "Sorry," she murmured as she began to cry. "I know, but that….that was beautiful." 

Zack smiled at his wife as he kept his eyes on the road. He offered his hand to the back seat which she immediately took. 

"Now that we’ve said that," Spike went on after leaning back to kiss his wife and give Kelly a pat, "Where we going?" 

"Well," Zack said measurably. "We’ve found one place to have some of the best schooling while still having close ties to culture and career opportunity. There are plenty of hospitals there along with many opportunities for me to use my business degree." 

"And that is?" Buffy asked patiently. 

"New York," Kelly responded. "That’s been the only place we agreed on. I didn’t want to live overseas and Zack didn’t want to live in Topeka, Kansas." 

Spike nodded. "I always liked the Big Apple. Never was a boring day for sure. Fine with me. Buffy?"

She pondered a moment. "I’ll be away from a Hellmouth. But we won’t be around the others unless they move too. If Dawnie doesn’t come—" 

"Dawnie has to come," Zack said loud enough to wake up Rosie. Luckily he didn’t. He immediately lowered his voice to a whisper once more. "She has to come. We need a babysitter and if she’s in California how are Spike and I going to muck up her dates." 

"True," Spike said fearfully. "That’s settled. Nibblet will come with us." 

"Besides that," Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the protective nature of the two men. "We won’t be in California." 

"How is that a bad thing?" Kelly asked. "Remember who they just elected governor. Thank god he wasn’t born here or we’d have another Reagan on our hands." She looked to the front seat to mumble. "And he wasn’t in a Batman movie." 

No one bothered to comment but simply rolled their eyes. "It’s not," Buffy said with a shrug. "Just a reflection about how things will be different now that I’ll be in New York." 

"Really?" Kelly squealed waking up her daughter after getting on to everyone else in the car. "This is great!" 

"Huh?" Rosie said before rolling over and drifting off once more. 

The car waited a couple of minutes before speaking in whispers again. "So we’re all moving to New York?" Zack had to clarify. 

"Sounds like it," Spike drawled. 

"Wow," he sighed as the passed a sign saying fifteen miles left to Sunnydale. "This has all been so…wow." 

"You need to pull over," Spike asked him privately as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He saw all the emotion coming to the forefront. 

"Isn’t there a rest stop right up here?" he asked. Spike nodded and they pulled off at the next exit. 

As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, Zack hopped out of the car and walked over to a set of picnic benches. He placed his head in his hands as he thought about how he was nothing like the man he once was. Everything in his life had changed. His wife was never an adulteress, but a rape victim. His daughter was a Seer. His best friend was now his sire and he had seen dark faucets of Spike’s demon that he had only heard tales of as he fought to save the lives of those around him. He had kissed Buffy and caused some of the roughest spots in both of their marriages. He was a vampire. He killed and liked it. He tasted pure evil and liked it. He was moving to New York. And finally, he was going to be a father again.

"Zack?" He felt his wife sitting down next to him as he felt her fingertips begin to gently stroke his back. "I know," she whispered. He heard her crying and knew that he couldn’t hide away from her anymore. He lifted his head to meet her gaze. 

"It’s…nothing’s the same." That was all he could think to say. 

She rubbed his back harder. "I know, but we’ll manage. And you’ve got a lifetime to think about it," she pointed out with a smirk at her pun. 

Zack didn’t have the same reaction. Mainly because the statement brought to mind something that he hadn’t thought about it great detail—he was a vampire while Kelly was not. "Kelly—" he began in a panic. 

She softly brushed her lips to his in attempts to quiet him. "I know," she whispered. "After the baby." 

"You mean that you want to…get sired." 

"Zack. I made the decision the second I asked Spike to sire you. I won’t let you watch me get old and die. It was going to be hard to do when we were doing it together, but I couldn’t let you watch me whither away to nothing." 

"So…" He said after they held one another for a few minutes. "I guess that list was kinda ironic." 

"Just a bit," she said smiling into his chest. They pulled away long enough to seek out one another’s lips where they proceeded to spend the next few minutes sealing their fate. 

"This’ll be interesting," Spike said as he took a drag on his cigarette while keeping around his wife’s waist. They sat on the hood of the car as they watched the couple have their sentimental moment. 

"What?" the Slayer asked leaning her head on his shoulder. 

"Well, who’s going do the next job. You sired me. I sired Zangy. So who’s going to do the job when Kel’s turn comes ‘round?" 

She shrugged. She didn’t have an answer, but she knew as the couple on the benches stood up that they would be an their way back to Sunnydale once more. The sun was coming up and instinct said that they should be indoors, Amara or not. 

"Let’s go," Zack said with a shy smile and a nod as he approached the car. He tossed the keys to Spike before getting in the backseat to sit with his wife and daughter. 

"About sodding time there, Zangy," Spike said as he got in a fired up the engine. They pulled back on the freeway and were quickly approaching 90 as they heard the sirens approach behind them. 

At least some things would never change. 

"Oh bugger," the men groaned in unison.


	27. Epilogue

_5 months later_

"Can one of you help me?" Kelly called from the nursery. She was trying to make the crib with the ducky sheets that Xander had just given her two days before at the shower. 

"Yeah," Zack said coming in. "Sweetie, don’t you think that you should take a rest. The doctor says that they baby is due in less than a week and you should be extra cautious." 

"If I don’t make the bed, then who will?" She countered as she allowed her husband to ease her into the rocking chair they bought with Rosie. 

"Ummm…I’m sure Buffy will." She was grinning now. 

"Speaking of which, where is she? I thought Spike was here still, but I don’t hear sounds of copulation." 

"Kelly!" Zack laughed. 

"Or at least the sounds of horny teenagers making out." 

"First of all," the platinum vampire came sauntering in. "I don’t like the horny teenager simile. Second, you’re daughter would be in the vicinity for any copulation and you tell me that you don’t like that. Third of all is that she and Rosie went down to the park. She was getting a little ancy while Zangy and I finished putting together that sodding daybed." 

"Is it done?" Kelly asked with glee. 

"Damn right it is," Spike huffed with pride. 

"Looks just like it does on the box," Zack added with a smile. 

"Good thing that it only took seventeen hours," Kelly said trying her best to hold in her laugh. "I think if it took twelve more, she may have outgrown it." 

"Funny," Zack grumbled as the smile dissipated off his face. 

"Hey there, Pom-Pom," Spike growled. "You ding put that thing together. All you did was eat you globs of peanut butter and dangle Cheetos in our faces." Kelly’s lack of emotional caused him to grow even more irritated. "Just remember that next time you and my wife decide to move across the country and buy all new furniture." 

"Sod that," Kelly laughed. "Spike, we bought Rosie a new bed and you and Buffy a new bed. Other than that we bought a dining table and chairs." She giggled harder as she added, "You didn’t even deliver that." 

"Still," he said as he realized that she was right. Both women wanted to buy all new décor, but finding places in New York and settling in all before the birth of the baby hard been taxing on everyone’s financial standings. 

Kelly grabbed her belly as she tried to calm her laughing. She was beginning to hurt, but seeing their reactions were worth it. She knew that lack of sleep was also playing a part. 

"Are you over it?" Zack asked about five minutes later when her chuckles began to subside. 

She nodded while still snickering quietly. "But for the record, Spike ate up the Cheetos." 

"After you ate the bleeding Weetabix!" He called from the other room as he was pushing Rosie’s finished bed in place. "I had munchies and everyone gets all nasty when I drink all the blood up." 

"Especially when its in my fridge," Zack replied.

"Just remember that when you come over to your Pap’s for something’." 

"Maybe living on the same floor isn’t such a good idea," Kelly teased as she hoisted herself up to finish making the crib. "What’s for dinner?" 

"Oh, now you are being all chummy," Spike mocked. "You ding feel too chummy when you laughed in our faces, but when you need furniture or nourishment you act all sweet and innocent again." 

Zack moved from the doorway to make room for his wife as she stalked over to their daughter’s room. She came to stand in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "William the Bloody Awful Charmer, would you like to say that to my face." 

He smirked as he saw the look in her eyes. "I think I would. I said—" 

"Keep in mind who washed your clothes and makes sure that your fridge is normally stocked." 

"You haven’ been," He shot back with a twinkle in his eyes. "Fact is you haven’ done much but lounge ‘round while I do most of the work." 

"Like hell," She snapped momentarily looking pissed for the first time in the banter. "And if I am, I would like to see what you’d being doing at nine months pregnant." 

"I don’t think that’s relevant," Zack said meekly. 

He tried not to laugh as his wife turned to him wide-eyed. "I would watch your mouth there, Zack. Especially if you want to get some loving." 

"Huh? You’re pregnant. I haven’t gotten any loving in a month now." 

"Guess it’s more relevant than you thought," Spike pointed out with a cocky grin. 

"And I don’t act all sweet and innocent, Spike," Kelly said turning to face Spike once more. "In fact, anyone nine months pregnant is lying if they pretend that they’re that sweet and innocent at all." 

"Kel," Zack asked venturing over to her side. "Are you a little frustrated in the loving department?" 

"I’m just tired of being pregnant," She sighed. She smiled at the men as they realized that the end of their playtime banter had come. "That and I’m hungry." 

"Buffy?" Zack asked Spike. 

He picked up immediately on the question. "No. She said she was going to stop by and check on Ripper’s new place. Probably ogle over his pretty new furniture. Anyways, she won’t bring dinner and she and the Bit might be eating there." 

"Nominations?" Zack asked as he reached for the phonebook. 

"No more pizza," Spike stated. "We still have half if one in the fridge. How ‘bout that Italian place we saw advertised on the telly?" 

"Pizza is Italian," Zack pointed out. "So are we being prejudiced or just a hypocrite." 

"Well bugger that then," Spike said flopping down and trying out the new equipment. 

Kelly leaned up against the door. "Why not that new Chinese place? We’ve always said that we’d go to it, so why not just try their take-out?"

"Lady does have a point, Zangy. Go get the woman some dinner and pick me up some extra crab ragoons. Chicken lo mien as well." 

"Fried rice, please," Kelly said smiling at her husband sweetly. "And lots of fortune cookies. I like the taste and the fun little sayings too." 

"I volunteer Spike," Zack nearly whined. 

"Too late. Go," Spike demanded. 

Zack got nearly to the door before he realized what had happened. "Dammit!" He growled as he heard both his sire and his wife giggling at him from the other room. 

"Just go, Zangy. ‘ll let you have the rest if my fags when you get back." 

"All right." This sated the man as he walked out the door. 

"You’re really going to do that?" Kelly couldn’t help but ask. 

"I smoked the last if mine this morning. Don’t tell him but ‘ve been bumming his all day." 

Kelly chuckled lightly as she went to ease herself down on the living room couch. "Would you be a doll and get me a glass of water?" 

"Would you be one as well and never mention that I’m a doll in front if anyone," the Cockney murmured as he handed her a glass. 

"Sure," she smiled. She grimaced a little as she set the cup down on the table and hoped that he was too busy bragging about his manhood and assembling furniture to notice. 

She wasn’t that lucky. 

"Are you all right?" 

"Fine." In actuality, she was beginning to not feel so well, but was attributing that to her laughing and bad eating habits over the past few hours. The peanut butter and Cheetos probably weren’t setting well on her stomach. The more that she thought about it, Chinese food probably wouldn’t either. 

"You look like you’re gonna get sick, love." 

"I might," she admitted motioning for him to help her off the couch. "I don’t think he’s feeling in a very good mood today." She rubbed her tummy as Spike pulled her to an upright position. 

"Need any help in there?" He asked as he watched her waddle toward the restroom. 

"No thanks." She hadn’t had morning sickness for months, but she knew that something wasn’t quite right- something hurt. She went in the bathroom and leaned against the vanity for several moments. 

Spike paced outside the door. He didn’t like the idea of pain and he distinctly heard a grunt as she pulled the door close. The only thing he could think to do was to make conversation. "So…got a name for him yet?" 

"Yes. You know that me and Zack are keeping it a secret till he’s born." 

"Yeah. Don’t know how the two if you are keeping your traps shut, but you figure me tell ifore the end if the week." 

"It’s not Zack," She said before groaning aloud. 

"Kel?" 

"Just something I ate." 

"Good. I was just making sure you were treating him good. You said he was having a bad day." 

"Oh god," She moaned as he heard a thud. 

"Kelly?" He said opening the door before she could respond to find her clutching her stomach as she sat on the toilet seat. 

"Funny thing," Kelly said trying her best to laugh. "Remember when I said he was having a bad day? Well he must be having a good one. Such a good one that he wants to come out and tell us about it." 

"I don’t bloody think so," Spike said looking to her with horror. He remembered Rosie’s birth had come about in the middle of the night. She had been delivered before anyone besides the proud parents could arrive as the hospital. The total delivery time from start to finish was only three hours. "Have you been having contractions long?" 

"Well…" Kelly tried to smile but ended up grimacing in pain.

"Kelly!" 

"I thought it was indigestion." 

"What told you otherwise?" Spike hoped that maybe this was a bad case of too much peanut butter. 

"The part where my water just broke when I said ‘oh god’." 

"Good indicator," Spike said helping her up. 

"Call the hospital. Call Zack." 

"Why don’t we just get in a cab and go there." 

"I don’t think I can make it," She admitted as she held on to him for dear life as he guided her to the floor. 

"Stay in there!" He yelled at her belly. "At least wait till you’re sodding dad gets back with dinner." 

"How is this for irony?" Kelly whimpered. "I’m having my baby on the bathroom floor. Delivered by a vampire." 

"Hey, love," Spike sulked. "I don’t know if I like the way that was spoken." 

"Spike," she hissed as another contraction overcame her. "Sorry if I don’t care." 

"Let’s get you off the floor," Spike decided. 

Fifteen minutes went by before Zack came back with several bags of blood and Chinese food. "Honey, I’m home." 

"Ahhh," Kelly screamed from the bedroom. 

Zack immediately dropped the food on the counter as he raced toward his wife. He stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the doorway and saw Kelly lying on the bed with a panicked Spike removing her pants. "I know this isn’t what it looks like," he blinked. 

"if it looks like the missus it’s ‘bout five minutes away from giving birth on your bed, then its exactly what it looks like." 

"Why didn’t you get her to the hospital?" Zack cried rushing to her side. 

"’Cause I picked the worst time ever to procrastinate and eat Cheetos," Kelly groaned. 

"You did this before, Zangy," Spike pointed out. 

"When I said I actually delivered the baby, I might have overstated that a bit." 

"What?" Spike and Kelly screamed. 

"I held the picture and did some breathing. Basically all that I know for Lamaze." 

"Well bugger," Spike said picking up the phone. 

"Who are you calling? 911?"

"The next best thing for a crisis," Spike stated. "Hey Ripper? Yeah. You know anything ‘bout birthing babies ‘cause I don’? No you ponce I wasn’t making a Gone With the Wind pun, though it it’s a bit ironic. I guess I could start calling you Miss Scarlet—" 

"SPIKE!" Zack growled. 

"Uhh…yeah. Seems that Kelly it’s ‘bout to give birth and me and Zangy wanted to know if you had any pointers." 

He did, but the next fifteen minutes proved to be some of the longest in all of their lives. In that short amount of time, William Zachary Rupert Morris was brought into the world weighing little over six pounds according to the doctors some few hours later. Needless to say, the newest chapter of their lives had begun.


End file.
